Around here, we live bent low. Tuesday morning ladies from Masese stream through my front door. We have moved our weekly meeting from the slum of Masese to my living room because I have been up all night with new foster baby and can’t imagine getting all 14 of these little people out of the house. Excited about a change of pace and my sweet friends in my home, I enlist the help of darling Tamara and 13 eager little... Read more
This week. Mother's had their babies blown from their arms, the storm too strong. Other's clung tight as their infants breathed their last in my best friend's back seat, blood transfusions and machine-oxygen not enough to revive.I hold the hearts in my... Read more
This week. Mother’s had their babies blown from their arms, the storm too strong. Other’s clung tight as their infants breathed their last in my best friend’s back seat, blood transfusions and machine-oxygen not enough to revive. I hold the hearts in my thoughts and I pray harder. I lock eyes with this one momma, baby growing cold in her lap and I whisper, “I know.” And I murmur a prayer over her but there really aren’t words so we... Read more
I can see the women with their eyes wide as they tremble in front of the empty tomb. They listen to the angel’s words – can it be? – and they scurry, terrified and full of joy. Terrified and full of joy – I live there. It is possible to be afraid of what obedience might bring next and be full of thanks and overflowing joy and TRUST anyway. This giddy anticipation because we see all that He has done... Read more
I can see the women with their eyes wide open as they tremble in front of the tomb. They listen to the angels words – can it be? – and they scurry, terrified and full of joy. Terrified and full of joy – I live there. It is possible to be afraid of what obedience might bring next and be full of thanks and overflowing joy and TRUST anyway. This giddy anticipation because we see all that He has done... Read more
“I don’t want to do this,” I half scream at her, half plead to God. “I don’t want to walk this path, I don’t want to be this person, I don’t want to raise this daughter who doesn’t know who she belongs to and sometimes hugs me tight ... Read more
“I don’t want to do this,” I half scream at her, half plead to God. “I don’t want to walk this path, I don’t want to be this person, I don’t want to raise this daughter who doesn’t know who she belongs to and sometimes hugs me tight but sometimes pushes me far. I don’t want to let this birth mom live with us, knowing she can leave whenever she pleases and rip these wounds wide open again. I don’t... Read more
I stand at my laptop in its corner on the kitchen counter, stew bubbling, children playing, clock ticking. I stand here and I read the prayers of friends and strangers alike who love my family enough to spend their time whispering to Him on our behal... Read more
Kisses from Katie
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