If my child marries yours …
I just want you to know that I’m praying for you.
When I’m awake at night—feeding babies, burping babies, giving Tylenol to a feverish toddler, covering up chilly toes, tucking green monkeys under little arms—I think of you. Because chances are, you’re awake too, doing the same sorts of things. Taking care of tiny children that I already love because they will someday hold the hearts that are beating against my chest tonight.
I’m praying that you’ll stand firm against the pressures to overcommit and hyper-schedule, that you’ll shut out the voices that tell you you’re not doing enough, that your kids aren’t doing enough.