This story began years ago, when a little five year old girl dreamed of being a momma to a baby boy named Isaac. We played house, and pretend-nursed our dollies, and rocked them to sleep, and talked ten year old parenting wisdom. And kept dreaming, all through our teenage years. She stood beside me at our wedding, and I stood beside her at hers, and we dreamed even harder, sure our dreams of motherhood were just within our grasp. My first baby, then my second, and they call her Auntie.
And waiting… and loss. Months turned into years, and we cried together over the ache of her empty arms. (But her heart was still full, and always she had hope.)
Then this sunny fall day we met to thrift shop, like we do. And, we wandered to the baby section, looking for jeans for my boys. She pulled out a tiny little romper, turned to me, and said, “What do you think? Will this be great for my June baby?”
We cried happy tears and hugged and laughed and dreamed some more.
And waited for June all winter long.
Now he is here, healthy and whole, and quite possibly the cutest little thing that ever was or will be.
“God has given me laughter, and all who see it will laugh with me.” Gen 21:6