In loving memory of all babies lost to miscarriage or stillbirth.
Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands… —Isaiah 49:15-16
This is the castle where my great great grandmother on my mother’s side was raised. According to the story, she was knocked up by the gardener and disinherited. She moved to Canada where she worked as a hat maker to provide for herself and her infant son. She eventually married and raised a family. When she passed away her husband remarried, and his jealous new wife burned all of her things, including journals, clothes, and photographs—which is too bad, because those would have been super cool to look through. This castle, however, still stands as a historic landmark in Slovakia.
It is a dream of mine to visit there someday and experience in person this beautiful remnant of my family history.
I am coming to see that the only way that someone as flawed and weak as I am could possibly get to heaven is if Jesus bends down and picks me up in his arms, and lifts me to the heights of holiness himself. He is the one who will unwrap these ropes of doubt and sin and equip me with the grace to live this ordinary life with extraordinary love.