It all kicked off with this story.
A young family was shopping for groceries when their two kids started to meltdown.
It sounds like a typical Tuesday except that the kids in this story are both of a different race then their parents, as well as have special needs. (The boy is autistic and the girl has both webbed and missing digits.)
The young parents raced through the store, desperate to attract as little attention as possible, which is already a challenge considering their family dynamic.
And on their frantic race to the car an employee stopped them, gifted them a bouquet of flowers, and thanked them for their beautiful family–expressing that she too was adopted.
A random act of kindness in the midst of a meltdown.
(If you get a chance you should read it yourself.)
So, I was already a bit emotional.
And this next story pushed me right over the edge.
When I was in college I had a friend named Thomas, but I always called him Willy, cause he sorta looked like a handsome version of Will Ferrell.
Willy is married to a woman who I’ve never actually met but have randomly stumbled upon a blog she’s been writing; documenting their struggles to have a baby.
I read through their first attempts at IVF.
I was heart-broken when it didn’t work.
I read along through their second attempts and I rejoiced when they announced that they were, in fact, pregnant.
I was on pins and needles waiting to hear how many babies they were going to welcome into their lives and was both happy and, honestly, a bit bummed to hear that they were only growing one.
Then this morning:
The first thing I saw was the word “bleeding” and my worry receptors went on alert. I read along with her fears,
along with the awful hours of waiting
and I held my breath while the doctor silently checked on her baby. . .
or should I say babies.
It turns out that the tiny little embryo that implanted, decided to split.
And my dear friend from college and his brave and honest wife are expecting identical twins.
I cried with relief that her babies were ok, I cried for joy that they were being blessed with two. I just cried and cried.
(And called my sister and made her cry.)
Adam walked in the room, freaked out that something was wrong, and then laughed at his pathetic and weepy-wife.
“You should send them a picture of yourself like this.”
And so I did.
(Talk about an ugly-crier…)
Just like the employee that wanted to thank that young family for the beauty of their adoptions,
I wanted to thank this new mom, a woman I’ve yet to meet.
I wanted to thank her for the courage it must take to share her sadness, worries and joys with so many people.
To thank her for reminding me how beautiful motherhood is.
And what a privilege,
and joy it is.
(And I thought the best way to thank her was to send a crazy picture of myself in a puddle of tears. Cause that’s not creepy at all.)
If you want to read more about their story you can visit this site: http://longsleevesinashortpersonworld.blogspot.com/2014/12/week-7.html?spref=fb.
Please join me in praying for this sweet couple and their two precious babies.
This is the part of social media that I love.
With all the heartbreak and sadness that’s filling our news feeds and tv stations it’s easy to feel weighed down by all the darkness.
But this morning their was a break in the storm, and my soul sang for these two families.
Full of people I’ve never met, and lives I’ll likely never cross.
But they’ve touched me none the less.
And I am grateful.