“He Arose” is a classic Christian Easter hymn that many of us know and love — but when this adorable duo hits the mic, you may never be able to listen to another version ever again.
Get ready for more cuteness than you can HANDLE packed into three 3 minutes of brotherly perfection…
Dear Husband,
I am sorry.
I’m sorry that you’ve been neglected for the last four-and-a-half years. I’m sorry that your needs are secondary. I assure you, you are still one of my top priorities—you just aren’t on the top of the list anymore.
I know that you have needs, wants, dreams and desires. When I tell you that I want to be the one you lean on, I mean it. I know you are tired of my excuses of being tired, having a headache or am already snoring when you snuggle up next to me. Trust me, I wish I had the energy I had five years ago. Hell, I wish I had the energy I had two weeks ago when I washed, folded and actually put away all 10 loads of laundry. Of course, you didn’t see that because I was letting you get some much needed sleep.
I know that some days it feels like we have a business partnership. And you’re right. Some days—even weeks—feel that way. Know that I want better for our marriage, for us. Because together, we are damn good.
The problem is, my life, my brain and my body are so wrapped up in being a mother to those little boys who look exactly like you. Even after they’re sound asleep and we’re sitting on the couch watching a movie, my brain is still in mother mode.
I’m thinking about tomorrow; I’m thinking about 10 years from now. I’m wondering if you have work clothes for tomorrow. I’m worried about money, milestones and milk. Do we have enough milk? I can’t turn off being a mom. It is who I am now. And it is physically, emotionally and mentally exhausting.
I tend to have anxiety. I also tend to overthink the things I’m having anxiety about.
So it was no wonder that when I had a trip scheduled to fly with my 6-month-old daughter, I was both anxiety-ridden and obsessively researching all the things one needs to know when travelling [sic] with baby.
It’s not hard to guess why I was so anxious.
For starters, it was not so many months ago when I was walking through REI, phone in hand, transfixed by a bizarre video of an Asian doctor being violently and forcibly removed from a plane.
Then there was the second viral video of a flight attendant who lost his marbles on a young mom with a baby over a stroller she was trying to carry on the plane.
Last, but not least, was my own experience seven years ago flying with an infant. I sat squished in the window seat next to a lady who had (I-kid-you-not) pants made from zippers. I’ve never seen anything like it before or since. Naturally, my almost-one-year old wanted nothing to do with the toys I brought, and only wanted to play with the unamused lady’s zippers. When my baby wasn’t fighting to get her hands on those delightful pants, she was biting the heck out of me every time we nursed with her newly budded teeth. Once we arrived, me barely intact, the stroller I had borrowed for the flight refused to lock, and so it kept folding up on my precious bundle as we wandered around the Denver airport ridiculously lost.
The way home wasn’t much better. The airline broke the stroller I had borrowed from a family member, and no compensation was received. And my baby bit the whole way back. Because why not? I think I vowed never to fly with a baby again.
Combine all of the above and I knew I needed to be prepared for All.The.Things. this go around. . .
Book an aisle seat on all flights — Check.
Bring a stroller I could trust and be able to handle easily in security, but make sure it’s not too expensive in case it gets damaged by the airline — Check.
Wear baby using a comfortable carrier with toys attached — Check.
Carry on enough clothes and diapers for baby and me for two days in case of a delay — Check.
Ask for doctor’s note for baby’s liquid medicine just in case — Check.
Only a few times in my life has my obsessive research actually benefitted me, and I would rank our flights to our destination as one of those times. I had neither too much, nor not enough stuff. Even when the pilot realized something was amiss on our flight at take off, and re-routed us back to the gate for an hour and a half delay, my baby did beautifully. She fussed for only about 5 minutes for the duration of our travel from Seattle to Georgia. And all the people around me ooh’ed and aah’ed over how well behaved my baby was.
Of course, all this combined made me an EXPERT on flying with baby. (I give you permission to laugh out loud, roll your eyes, or generally scoff — whatever’s your thing.)
So as I packed for the trip home, I mentally put together a blog post about how to travel with an infant.
One of my favorite things about kids is their authenticity and empathy. In adults, it can be hard to find someone who is unashamedly genuine.
But kids are different. They’re unapologetically authentic. Their hearts are sincerely pure and it radiates out of them in unbelievable ways.
Shortly after her birth, Charly’s mom, Christy Keane, and her husband learned their precious little angel is deaf.
She was fit for hearing aids a few months after her birth, and when the time came for her ears to be turned on, Christy shared a video of Charly hearing her mom’s voice for the first time.
Christy wrote that they didn’t think Charly would be able to hear anything when doctors turned on the hearing aids. So it was the “miracle moment” that Christy had been praying for when Charly responded to the sound of her voice!
Her reaction is sheer joy as the small baby chokes back tears!
“This was more incredible than I can put in to words!” Christy wrote.
Charly is expected to undergo surgery for cochlear implants sometime next year. Until then, we’ll just keep pressing replay on her adorably sweet reaction!
***Disclaimer: Mom’s trafficking claims have not been validated by police. However her message is still one that everyone should take seriously: Always be aware of your surroundings.***
While shopping at her local Ross over the weekend, a woman named Nicolette experienced an “unbelievable encounter” with three men who she believes were exhibiting “sex trafficking behavior.” After her trip to the store turned into a scary close call, the young woman from Highlands Ranch, Colorado, has an important message for moms, dads, teens and young adults everywhere to be aware of your surroundings.
As she detailed in a Facebook post on Saturday, one of three men entered the store about the same time as she did. Within just a few minutes it was clear that Nicolette had become a target.
“Long story short the heavy set man walked into Ross the same time I did, I only remember this because internally I chuckled at his man purse. He followed me around the store a little too close for my liking, so I made a point to keep my kids in the cart and my purse on me…he seemed to be there almost every time I looked up or at least looking in my direction.”
Nicolette KateWhen it came time to checkout, Nicolette says she got in line, and noticed the man had been at the front of the store. Then he got in line behind her.
Becoming more and more aware of her surroundings, the seven-months pregnant mother of two took notice as the man began texting someone. Seconds later, another man appeared at the front of the store near the exit doors.
Nicolette Kate“I got a mom instinct feeling and audibly said ‘oh we forgot to get you something’ to my son and I walked out of line. So did the heavy set man. He waited next to the check out and all of the sudden his friend was right next to me.”
She did a little loop around the store, then went back to the line where both the heavy-set man and his friend got in line behind her again.
“Out of no where a third man in red shows up. At this point my senses are ON permanently as I looked in his cart and only saw weird items like teen girls clothes, women’s shoes, kids clothes. I got away from the line a third time and so did they.”
Nicolette KateThey were keeping a close eye on her, and making it difficult for Nicolette to report her suspicions, so she texted in some reinforcements.
“I finally decided to have a friend come up to the store as she lived across the road basically, and I also wrote out a message on my phone to the cashier that something was not right. I got BACK in line and red shirt man got behind me with the original guy’s cart, while the other two split. One was trying to make change at the register while I was checking out, the other was at the entrance texting.
She continues:
“I shoved my phone to the cashier, who bless her heart, had already noticed this behavior. I asked her to please ‘scan my coupon’ and she read my note and notified the other cashiers and security/other employees that were free.”
But it didn’t stop there. After Nicolette finished her transaction, the man who was making change decided he no longer needed it, and left the store right behind her.
“The employees walked out with me and as soon as we went out the doors the three men followed behind. As soon as the creepy feeling became too much I turned around and said I forgot my phone inside to the cashier and security guy. To no surprise, the three men turned around and walked back to the entrance and waited…picked up their phone to talk and waved at a black SUV that was coming that turned around. They started walking in that direction but didn’t leave.”
To her relief, Nicolette’s friend showed up. They called the police and within 10 minutes the three men were being questioned by authorities.
After running their passports, the men told police they were on a business trip from Egypt—a story that Nicolette isn’t buying after seeing the little girls’ and women’s clothing in their carts.
Nicolette KateThe cops kept all three men safely away from Nicolette as she and her friend made their way to their cars and out of the parking lot.
“When we pulled out they were creepy smiling and low-key waved to me. My friend followed behind to make sure no one in that car pulled out behind me nor anyone else.”
Nicolette writes that while she can’t say what their true intentions were, she has plenty of evidence to believe that the men were likely part of some trafficking scheme:
“I have 2 little kids and I am a young [twenty-something, who] noticeably [has] a baby bump, 7 months along. And by the weird [stuff] they kept throwing in the cart I’m not too shy to say this is sex trafficking behavior at its best. Please keep your kids close and secure in the store, and be aware: Keep your mom senses up.”
Since posting her warning on Saturday afternoon, more than 38,000 people have shared her scary encounter, in hopes of spreading awareness both around the area and nationwide.
In an update to the original post, Nicolette said she received messages from at least three other women reporting similar behavior in the exact same men nearby. An Uber driver who saw the post also reached out to tell her that he’d picked these men up from a hotel nearby and they struck him as very creepy like something was “off.”
Thankfully, Nicolette was able to use her quick thinking to safely get out of what she felt to be a scary situation.
Sex trafficking isn’t just happening in some far away land. It’s happening here at home—in our shopping malls and backyards. Be able to recognize the warning signs of a trafficking situation, and let Nicolette’s experience serve as a reminder to always be aware of your surroundings.
59 Percent of Millennials Raised in a Church Have Dropped Out—And They’re Trying to Tell Us Why
I guess you could say my real life story begins when I was 16 years old. My mom (who was my best friend) died suddenly of brain cancer. It rocked my whole world and it was hard for me to imagine feeling happy again. Well when I was 18, I met a man whom I was sure was the man of my dreams. I never imagined he would ever be my ex-husband. We dated for a few years, he proposed, I said yes and we were married when I was 22. I was so excited to have found my supposed love of my life so early in life. One thing I also knew from a very young age, is I always wanted to be a mother. My life plan was we would have [three] kids by the time I was 30. I imagined the white picket fence and all. So my husband and I started trying for a baby and were blessed with my son Wyatt who was born perfect on October 12, 2012. My life was playing out just as I imagined it, and shortly after Wyatt was born we were already talking about having baby #2.
When Wyatt was just 4 months old, my husband at the time just stopped coming home at night. Out of nowhere. When I questioned him about it, all he would say is, ‘I’m trying to find myself,’ ‘Not sure if I was ready to be a Dad.’ I decided to try and be as supportive as I could and just hoped and prayed he would come back home. I had never felt that alone since my mom had died. This isn’t the way life was supposed to work. How was I all of [a] sudden a single mom? I was raised to be married before I had a child with someone. I did everything the way I was raised to be, and I just didn’t understand why this was happening. But I couldn’t wallow and soak in my self-pity; I had an infant to take care of. And that was my focus. I became suspicious that my husband wasn’t ‘finding himself,’ but instead, he was having an affair. He denied it and made me feel like absolute garbage for even suggesting it. But I had someone I knew see him out with another woman and snapped some pretty intimate photos of them. As soon as I brought ‘the evidence’ to him, he finally admitted to it. I knew in that moment my marriage was over. I filed for divorce in May of 2013.
From their delectable crispy chicken sandwiches and signature waffle fries to their first-class employees delivering customer service with a smile, there’s a hardly a thing not to love about Chick-fil-A.
Ranked as the top fast-food restaurant in the country for the fourth year in a row, it’s clear that the Lord’s chicken is also America’s favorite.
And now, a San Antonio Chick-fil-A is giving customers another reason smile after a video featuring an a capella group singing “Lean on Me” went viral.
The footage features the men’s worship group breaking out in a harmonious sing-a-long to the Bill Withers’ hit single, while patrons and Chick-fil-A team workers join in the fun. The footage has already been viewed over 12 million times, spreading some much-needed infectious joy across the Internet.
“I was EXHAUSTED. I had just gotten married a few months prior in 2009 and my career was blossoming. I woke up one morning to what I thought was the flu, but my health kept declining. My limbs felt like jelly, every fiber of my body felt as if it was being weighed down. I struggled in vain to keep my eyes open. I tried to push through, but it was impossible. I could not get out of bed, let alone go to work. I knew something was wrong.
I went to my doctor and explained the symptoms. He passed it off as stress. At my insistence, he referred me to a specialty hospital for testing. After days of tests, the final diagnosis was Somatization. Stress in my life was manifesting as physical symptoms. They said nothing was wrong with me. This diagnosis, coming from a world-renowned hospital, would haunt me for years to come.
I was DESPERATE. As the months turned to years, I continued to fight for an accurate diagnosis. Every new doctor took one look at my records and wrote me off in the same manner. By 2011, I could not walk more than a few feet without my muscles giving out and feeling like I couldn’t breathe. My joints were severely swollen and painful. Yet, the doctors still continued to say it was all in my head. I couldn’t understand why no one would believe me. Why were my cries for help being ignored? I felt helpless as I watched what remained of my beautiful life shatter into pieces. All the while, those whom I loved gradually disappeared.
I felt ALONE. In 2013, I was diagnosed with Lupus. I felt hopeful for the first time in years. I was put on multiple immunosuppressant and chemotherapy drugs. Yet after a year, there was no improvement and I continued to decline. The doctors said I should be improving and again, I was manifesting symptoms from stress. And even worse, my family started to question my sanity as well. I wanted to shake everyone and scream, ‘THIS IS NOT ALL IN MY HEAD!’ I was sinking into a pit of darkness and despair. Why wouldn’t anyone listen? Would they really turn their heads and let me die?
My only advocate was my blood doctor, Dr. Gilbert Nyamuswa. He had been seeing me since 2002 and could see my steady decline. But he was only treating me for a b-12 deficiency and he was in no position to diagnose me. I remember the day in 2015 I broke down in his office and bared my soul. But, something different happened at this appointment. He looked me directly in the eyes and told me he believed me. He called my family to come in for an appointment to discuss my health. At this appointment, he educated them on invisible illness. He explained just because they could not see it, did not mean it was not there. He went on to say he thought I also had Myasthenia Gravis and he referred me to a new neurologist. At my first appointment, his suspicions were confirmed. I finally had a diagnosis. It wasn’t all in my head.
Myasthenia Gravis (MG) is a rare neuromuscular disease characterized by weakness and rapid fatigue of any of the voluntary muscles, including breathing muscles. 15% of Myasthenia Gravis patients have a thymoma (tumor) growing off of the thymus gland.
My new neurologist could see I was very sick and scheduled the surgery to remove my Thymus gland the same week. I remember thinking I would not survive the surgery, so I wrote goodbye letters to my children and husband. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I tried to write everything I wanted to say, but my words failed me. I thought, ‘How do I say goodbye when I am not done living?’
When I opened my eyes from the surgery, I took a deep breath. It was like the first breath a baby takes; all of a sudden I could breathe. I was alive! The doctor came to my bedside and let me know they found a thymoma tumor that had wrapped itself around my heart. He said my heart and lungs were so restricted by the tumor I was close to death. I looked over at my family’s concerned faces as they processed this news and I felt vindicated.
Having my chest cracked open was not an easy recovery, but I was eager to get on with life and threw myself into my recovery. My doctors started me on IVIG treatments (Immunoglobulin), steroids, and stronger immunosuppressants. The treatments wiped me out, causing bone-crushing fatigue, but I was still just so happy to be alive.
Within 6 months, I FINALLY was able to return to work. It had been over 7 years since I had worked. Like before, I dove headfirst into my career because I was so happy to have my life back. But I soon discovered how hard it was to balance treatments with work, as my body was still weak.
And then it happened.
On November 25, 2017, I was at church with my 16-year-old son, when suddenly I could not lift my arms or take in a full breath. I knew what was coming. My neurologist had warned me it could come out of nowhere and it did. I was having a Myasthenic Crisis. My diaphragm muscle was too weak to work properly.
My son, Ricky, rushed me to the nearest hospital. He helped me in, and I tried to explain to the nurse in broken, out of breath sentences that I needed urgent help. My son told them I had Myasthenia Gravis but they didn’t seem too concerned. They took my oxygen levels and said it was fine. I was told to have a seat in the waiting room and they would get to me soon. I waited 1 hour, struggling to breathe and I knew I could not do it much longer. My son again brought me back and at the same time, my husband arrived. They demanded to see the nurse. They checked my oxygen level again and said I was just having a panic attack. I was in shock. Again, I was being dismissed and written off. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. I wanted to scream at them, ‘Look at the scar down the center of my chest, I am not making this up!’ But I didn’t have the strength to speak.
At this point my husband was frantically trying to get me help, demanding I be intubated. He was screaming at everyone, telling them the oxygen levels didn’t matter, I was in a Myasthenic Crisis. I tried to take a breath and I couldn’t. It was too late. My diaphragm muscle would not move. As I struggled, all of my muscles started misfiring and twitching. I was flopping around on the hospital gurney uncontrollably. I was suffocating. I was dying and no one was listening to my husband’s desperate pleas.
At this time, the head of ICU happened to be walking by and heard my husband scream ‘Myasthenic Crisis.’ He rushed to my side and yelled for them to intubate me. All of a sudden, I was VISIBLE. I heard Code Blue called over the intercom, and countless people rushed into the room in a frenzy. I remember it so vividly, I can still feel the warm tears slide down my cheek as I stared at my son, thinking this would be the last time I would see him.
I did not pray for God to save my life. I was certain I would die with my son watching. I didn’t want him to know I suffered. The last thought I had was my desperate plea to God, ‘Lord, give me the strength to die well. Help me to not look like I am suffocating. Lord, please protect my son’s heart from this.’ And I faded away.
I woke up intubated after a week in ICU and I couldn’t believe I was alive. I would spend over 2 more weeks in the hospital recovering.
After nearly losing my life, yet again, I was angry. Angry about having Myasthenia Gravis, but more importantly I was angry I wasn’t believed. I asked myself over and over, ‘Why am I continually being dismissed? Why did it take 6 years to get a diagnosis? Why are my symptoms consistently passed off as me just being emotional, depressed, marital stress, hormonal?’ And the answer was simple:
It is INVISIBLE.
But, was it really? Looking back on the memories and photos, it was all there, right in front of us all. But, when you live with someone and see them every day, it is easy to not see the gradual changes and symptoms.
I started thinking of all of the people that must struggle with invisible illness and the loneliness of it all. How many others are being told it is all in their head? How many other family members are unable to detect the slow and steady decline of their loved ones? I began chronicling my journey to share what it is like to live with an invisible illness. To the world, I appear healthy and ‘normal,’ when life is anything but.
I want to advocate for those who cannot speak for themselves. I want the world to understand just because you do not see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there. It is my hope EVERYONE is believed and supported through the trials and loneliness of invisible illness. It is my prayer a bright light can be shed on this topic so healthcare providers and loved ones can learn from my journey, as well as the countless others who have suffered from an invisible illness.
What if you were alone, even in the presence of many? Misunderstood and mislabeled. Needing so badly an advocate and a helper, but doing it alone… over and over, for years. What if your brain misfired, your muscles didn’t work, your body rejected everything good and accepted everything bad? What if your blood and immune system didn’t do what it should, so you needed 1000’s of others blood to override it? What if you can’t count the number of procedures and surgeries?
What if you had to take 10 different medications day and night and the consequences of them were incomprehensible? What if you were trapped in your mind, and couldn’t get out. If you couldn’t ever express the torment and anguish you experience daily, because no one really can possibly understand. What if you were sick, but people forgot, moved on? And you were still there, battling alone. If you took the same drugs a cancer patient takes, but you never get to ring the bell and celebrate remission like they do? What if EVERY doctor appointment you went to, you were alone? Trying to explain to a doctor, the unexplainable?
What if you knew it was just a matter of time before it all comes crashing down, because despite what everyone thinks, you are not that strong, you are not that brave, and you are no hero. What if you were me?
**This story was written by Jennifer Hall, published with permission. Follow her journey on Facebook and learn more about Myasthenia Gravis here.
This 15-year-old babysitter in Lakeland, Florida, is winning the Internet after a photo of her creative ways went viral.
Claudia Sorhaindo is part of a large family that lives close in vicinity to each other. Her niece, J’Ann, is one of 17 grandchildren, and Sorhaindo often uses her as a babysitter for her 2-month-old daughter, Ava, because of her experience looking after her younger cousins.
Last week, Sorhaindo left baby Ava with J’Ann for a while, and it wasn’t long before the 15-year-old was faced with a dilemma: She wanted to make a sandwich, but did not want to let Ava out of her sight.
J’Ann’s predicament resulted in some wild photos being texted to Sorhaindo while she was out.
Claudia Sorhaindo“So I had to run out the house for a quick min, so I asked my niece to babysit Baby Ava. A few min later I received a text saying that J’Ann wanted to make a sandwich but didn’t want to let baby Ava out of her sight. Lord send help this was her solution…creativity at its finest.”
The photos show J’Ann making a sandwich while 2-month-old Ava is “hanging out,” contently IN her shorts! J’Ann’s younger sister was able to capture the funny moment. They knew it would bring peace to their aunt’s mind knowing that everything was OK.
Claudia Sorhaindo“J’Ann knows how protective I am with Ava,” said Sorhaindo. “Some might say I’m a little paranoid. I’m always checking to see if she’s breathing, so J’Ann showed me she is making sure she is keeping her eyes on Ava.”
Her over-protectiveness isn’t just “first-time mom syndrome” In 2011, Sorhaindo’s 3-month-old daughter, Jenelle, died after a medication mix-up at a hospital near their home in St. Croix. After learning that she was pregnant with Ava, Sorhaindo and her fiance moved to the United States with their two other children, to be close to family and quality medical care.
Being able to laugh with her family has provided healing to Sorhaindo’s grieving heart like she never could have imagined:
“They have helped me so much—if it weren’t for my friends and family I might have gone crazy. (When my daughter died) doctors offered me depression medication and I refused it because having a family like mine—I won’t have the chance to ever get depressed.”
Claudia SorhaindoSorhaindo says the funny photos made her entire day. She shared them because she thought they would make her friends and family laugh. Little did she know, the entire Internet would be sharing in their joy too.
“I am very thankful for having Baby Ava in my life because I thought I couldn’t have any more children,” she said. “And to see [these photos] brings tears of joy to my eyes.”
SHARE if her story made your heart smile too.❤️
Sasha Belcher and her husband, Nathan, were just glowing with excitement over the anticipation of welcoming their second child into the world. At four months along, the expectant mother was nearly halfway through the beautiful journey that would soon bear their brand new bundle of joy.
All signs indicated that she was happy, healthy and stable—but one morning, a single piercing pain down the middle of her forehead changed everything.
Sasha had experienced migraines since she was about 11 years old, but something about this one was different. Concerned over his wife’s unusual headache, Nathan urged her to go to the hospital. Though the symptoms may not have seemed ER-worthy just yet, his intuition told him something was wrong.
By the time they got to the hospital, Sasha was already unconscious, and her heart stopped just moments later. Before Nathan could even process what was happening, his wife was flown to the University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences where they immediately started emergency surgery.
“They had already cut her hair, they had all the tubes in her, I was terrified out of my mind,” said Nathan. “I didn’t know what was going on.”
He was informed that Sasha’s surgery was supposed to take approximately eight hours, but just one hour into the procedure, doctors came out with gut-wrenching news. They spotted a tangle of burst blood vessels in her brain that had formed a two-inch clot, and Sasha was too unstable to have it safely removed.
By medical standards, it was unreachable. Inoperable.
There was nothing more they could do.
The best the surgeons could do to alleviate pressure on the brain was to remove the fluid around the mass, but they had no hope left for her survival. They regretfully informed Nathan that his wife would likely not last through the night.
“I told them I didn’t think she would survive the night. I had done everything I could to help her, but the rest was up to God at that point,” said Sasha’s neurologist, Dr. Abla. “I remember talking to people who were in my operating room that day who went home and cried—nurses in our operating room—after this surgery.”
They tearfully told Nathan he needed to make the dreaded “call.”
It was time for friends and family to say their final goodbyes.
But Nathan just couldn’t do it. Sasha would survive against all odds. He knew it in his bones:
Nathan couldn’t bear the thought of losing not only his wife, but his best friend.
“We met in tenth grade—geometry class—she told me I had horrible hair… She kind of gives me direction, she’s made me a much better person.”
Miraculously, Sasha survived what the doctors swore would kill her. One week later, she went back in for one more operation.
“Just like the first time, they came back after an hour, we were terrified,” said Nathan. “The last time they did that they told us she wasn’t going to make it, but it was the polar opposite.”
Sasha bounced back remarkably and fully recovered.
However, their unborn son was still in peril after being without oxygen for so long.
Dr. Abla is convinced that this warrior mama bear’s will to live kept her and her baby fighting:
“This is someone who definitely has a will to live, who subconsciously is thinking about her baby, as soon as she came around, you could tell that she was touching her stomach. You could tell this was someone who was fighting not only for her life, but for the life of her child…”
A few months later, the adorably perfect Jack Grayson was born.
He suffered no ramifications from his mom’s health scare.
For the Belchers, this beautiful baby boy’s face will forever be their reminder of the saving hand of God and the sheer will of a mother to create living miracles. ❤️
Someone recently asked me what kind of men I hope my sons grow up to be. I think about this every day.
Even though I look at my sons and see my babies, I’m not raising babies. I am raising men. Men who some day will hopefully become fathers and husbands. Some of the most important roles in existence. It’s my job as their mother to raise them with the skills necessary to go out into the world and fulfill those roles well. Each and every day I am gifted with these boys, I am committed to that responsibility.
So…
To my future daughters-in-law,
I have a few things I want to say to you. This can’t possibly cover it all, but luckily, we have some time.
I don’t know you yet, but already, I love you. I love you so much, because some day, you will love my son. And he will return that love.
There will come a day that this sticky, messy, silly little boy will be yours. He will always be mine, but you will take my place in many ways.
Someday your hand will replace mine. Your eyes will be his peace and your heart will be his home.
It’ll be you he kisses goodnight.
It’ll be you he shares his dreams with.
It’ll be you who comforts him when he is scared.
It’ll be you who holds his heart. The same heart that beats against my chest as I hold him each night.
Someday, darling, that will be you.
I always thought I would have a daughter. Now I know that’s you. I want you to know I pray for you every day, just as I pray for my sons.
Right now, you’re everything to your own parents, just as my sons are everything to me. I pray you are cherished. Delighted in. Upheld and believed in. I pray you are being taught to love yourself first, because without that strong love, you will not be as equipped to love others successfully. I pray you are shown every day what a gift you are. I pray that if that message is somehow missed by those around you, you always know that when God looks at you, He sees His princess.
I am raising my son to view you that same way.
I pray you understand your worth and that you respect yourself. That you are being shown to respect others just the same. I pray that you are not afraid to share your voice, but that you use it to speak life; not only to yourself and others you encounter, but to my son. Men need you to speak life into them.
I want you to know that although I will make a lot of mistakes, I am committed to raising my son to honor you. I cannot take full credit, nor blame, for his beauty or his flaws. My own mom taught me that.
He is his own man. He has his own quirks and idiosyncrasies. You’ll figure those out as you go; and someday, you too will know him better than anyone else in the world. Give him the space to be himself, and I will teach him to do the same for you.
He won’t complete you. And you won’t complete him. Only God can do that. But I pray you edify each other and encourage each other to be even better together than you are on your own.
I promise to let you in. To share my secrets and knowledge of him so that you can love him best. When the time comes, I will trust you with his heart, just as you will trust him with yours. I do not take this heart exchange lightly, and I pray you don’t either. I am raising him to understand the value of a woman’s heart. That it’s priceless, and once broken, can never go back to the way it was before.
That’s not always a bad thing, but if we can avoid it, I don’t want my son to be the one who breaks your heart. I also want you to remember that he can’t be the one to heal it. Again, only God can do that. But I will raise my son to forever cherish the gift that is you and your love. I will teach him to understand your value. To honor and respect you, as you do him.
I strive to raise my boys in such a way that they learn how to be strong, yet vulnerable. Brave, yet humble. Courageous and fearless, yet unafraid to ask for help. That they are leaders but know how to follow. I pray he leads you well and understands the honor it is to be in that role. I pray he serves you, but that you never take advantage of his sacrifice.
I pray he fully understands his role as a man and that he lives his life with integrity, honor, humility, honesty, faith, and humor. That he knows who he is first in Christ and then within himself. I pray he follows his dreams and passions and that nothing stands in the way of that, to include you. I pray the same for you.
This is the story of my half-brother Easton, who became an orphan at 2 years old, and was finally adopted after 458 days, by me — his sister.
On March 2, 2016, my father turned 50. He was 4-months-in to a death sentence diagnosis of stage 4 pancreatic cancer. The man who hung the moon in my eyes, my best friend, was dying. The day after his birthday, I received a phone call that his wife had passed away [from] an overdose. It came as a shock to all of us. So I boarded a plane that afternoon with my 7-month-old twins and I flew alone with them from Washington to Michigan.
When I arrived, a lot of decisions needed to be made within our family. My father had a 2-year-old son, my little half-brother named Easton. Easton’s future needed to be figured out and it needed to be done quickly. We considered different options, talked about the pros and cons of different scenarios, but collectively as a family decided that I would raise him. My husband and I had four very young daughters and we always wanted a son. It was sort of like the perfect missing puzzle piece.
Things moved very quickly after my father decided to sign over custody to me. We met with a lawyer to discuss the process, signing multiple pieces of paper during the meeting. While sitting in that office, I tried so hard to imagine the pain and sacrifice my father must have felt in those moments. He knew he wasn’t going to live much longer. His eyes were starting to turn yellow, meaning his liver was starting to fail. But he sat there with his mind as sharp as ever, signing away his rights as a father. The heartbreak, yet fulfillment of that moment had my heart in a thousand pieces on the floor. I also thought about my daughters and how he was only able to be their grandpa for a few years. It all seemed so impossible and unfair that people I love so much would never know each other.
We left the lawyer’s office on Friday night, March 11, 2016, and had to wait until Monday for the judge to sign the documents, which she ended up doing. These documents gave me full legal guardianship of Easton. I told my dad the great news and he said to me, ‘Oh Molly, that makes me so happy. I love you so much.’ They would be his last words as he passed away the very next day. I had heard stories of people hanging on to say goodbye to family members or hanging on to watch their grandkids graduate. But this was the very first time I actually believed in it, knowing my father waited for Easton to be legally safe before letting go himself.
© Faithit - All rights reserved.