The blog below is something I wrote about 8 months ago in my personal journal. I thought I would post it today because it is always great to be reminded of how much each one of us is loved.
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intense (for lack of a more intense word) labor. For the
next 6 weeks she struggled to latch on to nurse and oh
if only there were words to describe the pain associated
with that. She is yet to sleep through the night and feels
like the lights being off means someone needs to be
singing to her for as long as it is dark…and no, it cannot
be any kind of recording. She is 9 months old now and to
date has never gone to sleep without putting on a fight.
She already has an idea of how things should go in her
life and will fight you tooth and nail to keep it that way.
At this very moment she lies next to me, sleeping like an
angel. Unbeknownst to a stranger is the 30 minute high
pitch screaming, vicious wriggling and hair pulling that
preceded this peaceful slumber. Yet as I look at her that,
now all too familiar, feeling returns. The pure, warm,
indescribable feeling of love. Not because she is perfect
but because she is mine.
way about me. Izzy’s strong gene of stubbornness is from
no stranger. I have failed Him many a times. I have
refused to rest in His peace insisting on controlling
everything on my life. I have been unkind, unloving and
unwise. The grown up version of my 9 month old.
Yet, the bible says He loves me so. Not because I am the
perfect child but because I am His.