My daughter turned 1 today.

A thread:

Right before she was born, I lost my job at a corporation that I wanted to keep advancing at. The lay-off was a gut punch. I have only ever heard God audibly once. I was cussing God out about my job loss when he said: “You don’t take care of her; I take care of her.”

She came a few weeks early and was 4 lbs and 12 oz. Tiny. I didn’t realize it but I had this urge for her to be “safe”.
The nurses kept making her pass every test they could throw at her to make sure she was good to leave. She’d pass and they’d say, “She’s tiny but mighty.”

Here’s the thing: I can’t guarantee her safety. I couldn’t last year, I can’t now, I won’t be able to in the future. I always felt apprehensive about the world she was going to grow up in and her first year she has lived has been wild.

She is such a good baby. You’d love her I think. I still can’t guarantee her safety but I take comfort in the fact that God overcame the world and I have a lot of faith that God will keep his promise to take care of her in spite of my effort... whatever “safety” means.