My brother wasn’t planned. But he was welcomed, wanted, and loved. When my parents got married he was already there. Growing and developing in my mother’s belly. But no one knew. Not even my parents.
I was planned. I was wanted. I was loved. My parents wanted more children and tried for 3 years after my brother was born until they had me. My mother loved me. My father loved me. And my brother loved me. I played. I laughed. I cried. I lived.
I was born in 1980. My parents were so called hippies. We went to church each Sunday. They were youth leaders, Sunday school teachers, Christians. And yet drinking and drugs were common place in our home. I saw pot on a regular basis and cocaine on occasion.
And I was loved. And I was protected. By my parents and my brother. It’s how I was raised and for me it was normal. When things were crazy I would go to mine or my brother’s room and he would bring me snacks. I was blind to the incongruousness of my life.
As I think about the beginning of my life my heart hurts for the unwanted babies and children of this world. And for those who are killed before they ever take their first breath.
I look at my boys and I praise God that they are wanted and they are loved as I was.
Don’t you see that children are God’s best gift?
the fruit of the womb his generous legacy?