Churchy

The VBS program seemed benign enough, so I tagged along for the cute-factor. There were pokes, hugs, belly rubs, and loving smiles. It always feels like coming home.

I grew up in a church filled with the most amazing people. They were my family when my own family failed me. They were my employers when I spent summers babysitting their children. They were my counselors when I had nobody else to talk to. They were my mentors when I struggled with what I read in the Bible. They taught me what the church looks like. In turn, I hope I served them well, too.

I'll never forget Easter this year when I went to church "so the baby could hear the music." So much was still in limbo, and not much felt right about this pregnancy. It only took a few sincere hugs and sweet conversations to know that it would be okay and that we're surrounded by truly remarkable people. I wasn't going to be doing this alone, and these people believed in me. I left feeling different about my role as a mama. They restored me.

I wish "church" didn't make my skin crawl because I want Klara to know the rest of our family.