Baptism

 Today is Weldon’s baptism. I am embarrassed to say that after about two weeks into pregnancy I abandoned Sunday morning at church for Sunday morning in bed. Now that she’s here, it’s easier to just let her nap instead of dressing and rushing out the door. I know that I should go. I want the kids to have that same sense of peace that I had when I walked into church as a kid. I know that God will find them. I have to trust that. As much as, deep down, I want to drag them through my own life and force them to see the things I saw just the way I saw them. I can’t. If God has taught me anything it’s that I am not in control. I have tried. And failed. 

Weldon was a miracle baby. Rob and I reunited miraculously after twenty five years and our own personal struggles. We knew having a baby was likely not in the cards without help so we got some help. Month of tests and medication and tears and morning after morning of shots that left me bruised and sore and emotional. And then she was there. After years of hurt and loss and wandering. Rob and I were together. And Weldon was here. She helped Ziggy to soften and Charlie to gain the strength of a big sister. And Rob and I have so much hope for the future. 


So today we will all wake up and shake the sleep off and go watch her be baptized. We will think about how far we have come and all the wonder that lies ahead. God found us. In all the broken and joyous minutes. And God will find her.

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