Dear Mr. Jesus,
“Unfortunately I can’t have any children, but I have raised and had several in my life. That ship has sailed so I just make the best of the little ones in my life now.”
You have grasped the solution I still struggle to accept. I don’t struggle often; with-child isn’t a title I will wear. Every now and again, my child slides its hands around my neck and squeezes until a lump forms, and then immediately am alone to recover in gasps, wheezes and tears.
Unlike you, children are a part of my life no longer. The children who were aren’t children anymore.
Your grace and acceptance humble me.
©2013 Sandra Davidson