As I child I was always so excited to grow up. I would dream about my life, my future, how someday I would be taller and older, how someday I would be a wife, and how someday I would be a mom. I always dreamed about being a mom. I dreamed about the child I would have, what it would look like, what my husband would look like. How remarkable it is now, my life, where I am right now, is the stuff of dreams. This is what I wanted as a child, I always wanted this. I always wanted a quaint house with character, I wanted a husband who loved me so deeply, I wanted to grow a child inside me.
Growing. I have grown, I am growing, my child is growing. Yet, I am struck with how very fragile life is. I have already written my hopes and dreams on this child and it is only the size of a baseball. How remarkable life is, we all start out so small, so fragile, so easily broken, yet we are all so important and we all have a role.
As my body grows to accommodation this child I am continually reminded of how significant we all are. How even though we were all once just the size of a poppy seed, even then Jesus died for us. My child is already one of Gods children. How remarkably loved by God we are, we are all his precious children. We have all grown in the palm of his hand. He has plans for us, hopes for us, and dreams for each and every one of us. How perfectly loved we all are.