Echoes of Jesus

I’ve read a few rather inspiring articles/blog posts in the last few days on motherhood. Words from mothers ahead of me in this life-gig of parenting, and mothers who seem to be living in my house right next to me.

Beautiful words. Wonderful words. Words full of what it means to LIVE.

God knew something that I didn’t know two and half years ago when He redeemed this broken life. He knew that He was about to give me an echo of the incredible gift He gave in Christ thousands of years ago. He gave me a child.

And 11 months later, He gave me another one.

Two girls. Beautiful, incredible, challenging.

Shoe-loving, cracker-crumb finding, sometimes loving, sometimes fighting, shockingly fearless babies.

And, I get to be their mom. God keeps telling me over and over again that truth.


These two are full of life. Exuberant, honest, and real. Genuine in a way that I think I forgot how to be. Innocent in a way that I don’t ever remember being. Generous with their love, their stuff, and their hearts.

My oldest: independent. Hardcore level. Fearless and daring. She likes to learn how things work, make them work for her, and she likes to do it all without help, thank you. Shoes, one of her first words and an absolutely necessary accessory before she leaves the house. Communication, only if she feels like it. At 20 months old, she fills the room with her presence. Her sister is her best friend.

My youngest: curious. Abundantly joyful. Loud. Cuddly and sweet. Her heart is tender, and she is easily hurt. But she gives her smiles and her love so freely. Without reservation. She is the tiniest treasure-hunter I’ve ever seen. She can find the most obscure things on my floor, and anytime she discovers something, she treats it with a quiet awe…then she puts it into her mouth. But you know, 9 months old, give her a break right? Her sister is her best friend.

Looking at the two of them together always makes my heart flutter a bit. I really don’t remember my world without them. It feels like they have always been part of me. And, in the unique way that God made life to pass on, they always have been.

Even right now, I watch them sit side by side. Oldest showing youngest the shoes she picked out for the day. Youngest being much more interested in her older sister’s pretty hair and how it feels to run (pull) tiny fingers through it.

Companions. Friends. Sisters.

I am blessed to have two sisters and a brother of my own. To have grown up in a large family, where none of us knew what it meant to be without a friend and playmate. I’m so glad that God saw fit to give that gift to my girls. To give that gift to me.

And it is a gift.

I won’t go into all the “reactions” we have gotten in the last couple of years. It isn’t worth the words or the breath that got wasted.

My children are more than a blessing. More than a gift. They are an instrument of God’s grace. They are a form of God’s discipline. They are the most insightful people that I have in my life. These two ladies can draw out in me both my finest forms and ugly beasts.

And through them, God has taught me more about Him as a Father and more about Him as Lord and more about Him as Spirit than anything else in my life.

Over 2000 years ago, God gave a different child as a gift. Not just to His mother but to the world.


For my sake, I’m grateful. For my children’s sake, I’m hopeful.

My babies are a blessing that I couldn’t have asked for or imagined. They are a gift that I never deserved and can never earn by being good enough. They are simply, God’s grace birthed into my life through blood and water.

They are echoes of Jesus. Echoes of His coming into this world as a child.

Like all things that God gives, my children are for my good. For my growth. They are instruments to point me towards Jesus.

I pray that I can be that instrument to them as well.

Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift! 2 Corinthians 9:15 ESV

Approaching this holiday season, I say, God Bless You. Jesus Loves You.


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