sometimes i cry at church

i went to church last night, and when i dropped boyd off at class, he teared up a bit, and i held it together.

but then there was a song, and i lost it. and a sweet lady walked by and asked me if i was ok.

and then a missionary got up and told this story.

some members of the church were recently in haiti.

there was a baby born at 32 weeks, and when they arrived the baby was 5 weeks old and 3 pounds.

they showed pictures of this precious baby last night, and she was oh so sweet.

and as much as i hate flying, i would have jumped on a plane right that second to hold that sweet thing.

the mother had not named the baby yet, nor bonded with her, because two of her other children had died.

so, every morning the missionaries would go to the house and pick up the baby and love on her all day.

and pray.

by the end of the week, the mother had completely changed, had bonded with the baby, and the baby was named...

Hope.

and if that's not a story of hope, i don't know what is.

i'm so glad that i carry kleenex in my purse.

i'm so glad that i have a savior.



love,
nicolle