Sometimes, the more your dream is woven into your deep places, the more you see it out in the world.
When I ached to be a mama but couldn’t get pregnant, I saw pregnant women everywhere. No matter where my feet traveled – grocery stores, movies, church – there they were, members of an exclusive club where everyone knew the password but me.
Of course, this wasn’t true at all. But tender things longed for and not held distorted my vision.
As my thirtysomething self looks around the dining room table at three shrinky dink versions of my husband and me, I see plain evidence that God says yes to desires, even if differently than I planned.
But what about those times when the evidence hides and you’re convinced your desires are the exception? You are the exception?