In the faces of my children, I see the Kingdom.
I see a Plan so out of my control,
and so outside of my own ideas
I see two heroic young women who were touched by this Kingdom.
who chose to bring redemption out of brokenness,
who endured much more than the pains of childbirth,
suffering the emotional hell of losing a child
So that their dreams for their babies could come true.
I don't think they'll ever fully know
how much they made my dreams come true, too.
Thank you, thank you, thank you....
These faces remind me of a Kingdom that isn't based on
But rather, one that values
A Kingdom that is made up of all colors
all political persuasions
all shapes and sizes.
On days like these when I am tempted toward discouragement
about the differences, about the stares and whispers
I must look away from those faces
and look at these.
And remember the Story He has given us.
The Kingdom always marches on, presses on.
It takes messed-up things
really messed-up things
and transforms them into beauty.
It is always at work around us,
but rarely in the way we think it is.
The Kingdom always sees things differently:
The last now come first.
The weak are really the strong.
The lowly and despised are the guests of honor.
And at the helm of this Kingdom
is a Savior who had nothing that would attract us to him.
Nothing that we should desire him.
I see the Kingdom in these faces.
I see a King full of tenderness and grace to me.
Pouring out blessings too wonderful to fathom.
And I cannot do anything but WORSHIP.