I'm A Child of God

It's been a rough week. It's only Wednesday. It's been a rough month. It's only October 6th. But it's been rough. Dealing with deaths. People that I love so much, who were taken way too early in their lives. There's been financial stress. Family problems plague me daily. There are men that love me more than life itself. But I can't find a way to let them love me. Or a way to love them back. And it's me, trying to make it through the day.

Sometimes when I just want to give up so badly, God sends me some little message. A beautiful Goddaughter who is fighting for her life. A precious little girl who just wants a hug from her Nana. A friend that needs me to listen to them. Because he misses his wife and child that he'll never get to meet. Another friend who is trying to keep it together for her kids. And my best friend who just needs me to listen to her woes.

When I'm feeling really down, God has a way of getting the message to me. Be it an amazing lightening and rainstorm. Or the perfect phone call. I know that I'm loved. I know at the end of the day, I have friends who would risk their lives for me. That's how much they love me. The way family should love you. The kind of love that I feel is missing from my life.

God is amazing. He's awesome! I know that I talk down to myself. I'm sincerely hard on myself. I expect myself to never stumble, let alone fall. I don't take "No" for an answer. I work myself until I can't go anymore. I take on too many people's problems. And I want to fix them all. But I'm human. I'm one person. And even I can only do so much.

"But to all who have received him, those who believe in his name, he has given the right to become God’s children." ~John 1:12

I'm a Child of God. A God that loves me. He never falters, never fails. He accepts and loves me just the way I am. He loves me completely and without judging. Even with my faults. My God loves me, because I'm me. The only one out there that is like me. I'm strong to a fault. And when I hurt, it goes right to my core. My God loves me because of all these things. I'm unique. Created by him, and him alone. I'm a Child of His.

As I type this, I'm crying. The tears are overwhelming me. Because I know this to be the truth. My God will always love me. No matter what happens in my life. I can always turn to him. He sends me beautiful things, like flowers, and rainbows. He also sends me so much love. And sometimes, there is pain to work through. No one is perfect. And My God knows that. He still loves me. He knows the burdens I carry with me. And he loves me.

"Success consists of getting up, just one more time than you fall." ~Oliver Goldsmith

No matter how many times I fall, I know my God will love me. He's proven it time and time again. Jesus gave his life for you and me. For our sins and our failures. No matter what, they are here for us. In our darkest days, we're never alone. I know this. I know this personally.

I've been sent amazing people in my life. People who have filled HUGE voids in my life. Who have shaped the woman that I am today. People like Patrick. They never ask for anything at all. But they're always there to catch you when you fall. Amazing little girls like Sarita, who just want to love you. There is a God. I know this. And I'm his Child!

It's been a tough few months. Months that I've questioned certain things in my life. But never have I had to question my faith and religion. But it's been a tough time in my life. Time when I've been unsure of what is coming. But I know I always have my God to turn to. I'm going to live a better life. For him. My obstacles in the road, they're not a "Road Block." Instead, I see them as a "Detour." I will always get up one more time than I fall. Because my God has made it possible.

I woke up this morning. It was so quiet. The air was crisp and clean. A new beginning. As if the rain has washed away all the hurt, pain, and misery. I look at today as a new beginning. I might have to change my "Life Path" a bit. Make some adjustments for what's coming next. But as long as I keep My God close, I will make it out of this darkness.



There is a God. And he loves me. I'm a Child of God. When the world becomes to heavy, he carries me along. Until I'm strong enough to do his work. I believe. My God makes all things possible! ♥

Holding True

There's this man. I loved him. I love him. I'm not really sure if it's past or present. But in my heart, it feels like it's still there.

I've never thought of love as being complete. You hear women say it all the time, I'm looking for the man that completes me. I'm not. I need to complete me. I'm looking for the man that compliments the woman that I am, that challenges me to grow, that will help me to be a better person. That's what I'm looking for.

This man, he's an amazing man. Talented, hardworking, loving, caring, and so funny! From the same home state as me. But he grew up north of where I did. We share the same religion, passion for music, and love of life. But our dreams and hopes for the future, lead the two of us, on two very different roads.

He recently started a blog. And I'm not sure what to think of it. I know how he feels. I know how I feel. But does that make something like this logical? I'm not sure...

Yesterday morning, I watched this video, read this tweet, and read this blog post. It just made me think, I need to stick to my guns. He has a lot to prove to me. A lot to apologize for. And he needs to work on gaining my trust again. I didn't do anything wrong. And I'm not compromising who I am, because he suddenly woke up.

It's crazy. He was the person I went to for everything! We'd hangout at school. He'd bring me a peanut butter sandwich between classes. I would have class from 6AM-10PM. We'd talk about life. Things we wanted. How many kids we wanted. What we'd name them. Where we'd live. The fact that I want to stay home with my kids. And he always felt like he needed to be able to support a family on his own.

When things were really bad, I went to him. There were many nights, that he helped me out. Just listening. Helping me to work through one of the worst things that could ever happen to a young girl. Something that I had buried deep down inside. Never told anyone. To this day, the only 2 people I've told, are him and my counselor. And as a young adult, it came bubbling to the surface. He helped me through it. Encouraged me to get help. And to work on putting it behind me.

He was also the one I ran to when I lost my uncle. I cried. I held on to him like he was the sole reason I was alive. He reassured me. Held me tight let me cry. And arranged for me to get home for the services. In mere hours, I was on a cross country flight home.

This man, held my hand before surgery. Before a surgery that I didn't tell my parents about until 4 or 5 years later! He was there. Took care of me. Literally helped me do everything I needed to do for weeks after. Besides my mom and grandma, I don't think anyone else has ever washed my dirty clothes. But he did. And bought me groceries. Tried to cook. Carried me to and from my house to his truck. Drove 90 minutes my doctor's appointments and back again. He was there for me.

He knows more about me than any other single person on this planet. Everything! My deepest and darkest secrets. The horrible stuff that I endured as a kid. The loneliness I felt growing up. My insecurities. All of my accomplishments. My likes. My dreams. What makes my blood boil over. How to get me to fall asleep. He knows it all.

I never felt safer, more loved, or more comfortable than I did around him. His hugs, they were like a warm blanket, that wrapped around my soul. He made me toes curl with a single grin. And my heart race every time he sang. No place felt more safe, than tightly wrapped in his arms. Listening to his heart beat.

He was the one. We joked many, many times about getting married. At 19, I almost did. In "Sin City." We were working a gig. And as poor as they get. We had just realized, we could get some help with our tuition, if we got married. It would cost less than $100. We seriously considered it. But ended our night with a mini wedding cake instead. When he got the big job in Florida, he asked me to marry him again. For real this time. Ginormous diamond ring included. Down on one knee. Tears in his eyes. Arms held out. Because he loved me. And he wanted us to have a life together...

We talked about. About marriage, life, work, careers, moves, homes, and babies. But I knew he needed to chase after his dreams. He wanted to be a musician. And he had every right to do it. He worked hard for this job. I didn't want him to give it up for me. To one day regret not taking the job. And blaming it one me. I knew he had to go. And I knew that I needed to stay here. To work. To go to school. To accomplish all those things my parents wanted me to do.

So I stayed. He left. We tried to make it work. And it was going OK. Until he moved out of the country. And our lives really took different paths. Jealousy set in. Accusations started. The fighting began. The horrible fighting. I couldn't stand to hear his voice, much less see his face. Every single time we saw each other, it turned into WWIII. No lie!

And last summer, it was like the volcano erupted. Just everything the two of us had been holding in, came out. 6AM, in the middle of my front yard. I'd worked 4 days straight. Just drove into my driveway. And he had just gotten back from a tour. I knew in an instant, he had changed...

This wasn't the same man. He had hatred in his eyes. It was like his soul was empty. Missing something. The life, it wasn't shining through his eyes anymore. That, was the last time we talked. The very last time.

Because we have the same friends, work similar gigs, and well, have to see each other from time to time, we've become civil. Not that it's been easy. He did get punched out in a rehearsal. And was asked to leave. Not by me. But by our boss, and my friend. It was shocking. But real life. Slowly, we've begun to heal. We e-mail each other from time to time. But we haven't really talked.

A very close friend of ours, she wants us to talk. She sees both sides. She travels with him and her husband. She's one of my best friends. She really wants us to sit and talk about it. To work through this. We were the "Happy Little Couple." Everyone just expected that one day, we'd make it official. I'm not so sure anymore. But I would like my old friend back. Especially since, we still have to sing together. In less than a month, we're singing for a friend's wedding. Then a show 2 weeks after that.

But listening to the end of this video, reading this tweet, and reading Kandee's letter, it makes me think, I don't ever want to compromise my beliefs, values, and morals. I'm 27 years old. Successful. On my own. No man, and I mean NO MAN, owns me. I'm a person. Not a piece of property. And I deserve and expect to be treated with respect.

It's funny. So many men, they just want sex. That's it. Plain and simple. Being a female performer, I see this a lot. Guys think they're all that and a sack of potatoes. Throwing around cash. Acting like fools. Thinking that will get my attention. Funny how it doesn't. What you see on stage, that's a character. I get paid to be that person. When I leave the stage, I wash off the makeup, throw on a pair of sweats, and comb through my hair. The HUGE and oh so fancy hotel suites, well, I go back alone. To read, study for my classes, and to go to sleep. I'm really not that exciting.

He got that. He understood. I think he actually preferred me in sweats, no makeup, and my out of control hair. He never pressured me into anything. Just realized that I was me. And I had my own time table for things. Beliefs in life. For love.

The ring I wear on my left hand. It's more than a piece of jewelry. It means something to me. I don't care if I'm 27 or not. Or if people think I'm an "Old Maid." That doesn't matter to me. It's a ring I bought for myself. A promise I made to myself. Because one day, I'm going to find the right man for me. That loves, honors, and respects me, for the person I am. Maybe it will be him again. I don't know...

I guess, only time will tell. But I do know, I have to stay true to the woman that I am. I'm special. I'm the only person that is like me. No one else even comes close. Because God has made us all unique. Maybe I'm not right for this man. But there is someone out there. Someone that God made just for me. I just need to be patient. And I can never lose myself in other people. It hurts too much. And through these 3 very different women, I got the message. Loud and clear. I need to be true to me. Because in the end, it's just not worth it to lose yourself in a man. ♥

Miserable Day

It's sorta funny when I think about. The entire day was pretty bad. It started with me waking up at 2AM because of the shooting pain in my hands and arms. I couldn't sleep. They felt like cement. I couldn't move. And it hurt so bad. But what could I do? Nothing. I have no health insurance. I have no money. Welcome to America.

I spent the next 20 minutes trying to get out of bed. And another 15 minutes trying to open my front door. Where I sat in the silence of early morning. Praying to God. And hoping that the pain and fear would go away. I know something is wrong. This is not normal. I've worked in health care too long to let this fall at the wayside. And the feeling in my gut, that spoke louder than any other person could.

Sometime after 6AM, I called my Dad. I knew he would be up. He's always up early. Just to talk. Maybe talking about nothing at all, maybe that would take my mind off of things. No, it didn't help. The only thing I could get him to talk about was the donut he was eating. And sometime after 7AM, when my Mom woke up, I was still miserable. Add to all of this, the miserable cold I got from getting caught in the rain.

But my Mom and I had a good conversation. We talked about a lot of things. And she was in such a great mood. It helped to lighten my own mood. Not the same type of conversation that my Dad and I had early this morning. But I'm coming to realize, the only time he has any kind of a real conversation with me, is when they fight...

So I went on with my day. I managed to drive myself to the library. I needed to get on the computer for school related things. Never mind that I have a laptop at home. But I have no internet access. And I need a new power cord...

I got some stuff done. But I couldn't finish it in the 1 hour they give you. That's right. You get 1 hour, of computer time, at your local library. Not much I could get done with 2 numb hands. So I headed to work. In pain. I still couldn't feel my hands and arms. And it was becoming difficult to breathe. I Thanked God that J wasn't home. That's all I needed. Was to be lectured by him, because I was feeling so bad and needed to go to the hospital.

From 9:30AM-5:30PM I worked. I locked myself in my office, and I finished all the paperwork for the guys. They're leaving early in the morning. Headed to the next job. I started payroll. And I had a million and a half things to do. Let's not get started on the fact that I couldn't feel my hands. And I've been panicked about that ALL DAY LONG!

I missed my session. And I got the usual call to my cellphone. Which I ignored. Guaranteed Dr. D. was at my front door knocking away. But I had to get through work. And honestly, I was in no mood to deal with all my crap today. I had already called to cancel. Guaranteed, he didn't believe me. So I call my parents when I get home.

I should have known when they didn't answer, that something was up. Because I can always reach them between 5-7PM. ALWAYS! Because they're usually eating dinner, or just finishing dinner, or having dessert. They're like that. On a schedule. But nothing. Not after the 3rd time I called on Dad's cellphone. Not on Mom's phone. Not another 5 times on Dad's. I knew something was up...

Oh ya, the crap really hit the fan tonight. I don't know what started it. Nor do I care. But honestly, I swear to God. If my husband ever told me the things my Dad has, I'd beat the man senseless. I'm not trying to be mean here. But there are certain things, that you should never hear about your parents. EVER! I don't care how mad the other is.

But that is what happened when my Dad called me at almost 6:30PM. I don't know how to put it. But it's time. It's time for them to walk away. There's nothing left there. No respect, no trust, and I'm doubting any love...

It saddens me. But if it will bring peace of mind to the 3 of us, it's time. It really is time. How many times can my Dad imagine things happening? How many times can he put HIS kids in front of my Mom? Hell, he tries to do that with me. I just don't let him. How many truly hurtful things can they say to each other?

That right there, that is the sole reason I run from relationships. I know it. No one has to tell me. I know this. For 27 years, I've heard the same fights. Seen the same things happen. And I usually sweep in, and fix things. But you know what? My own life is going up in flames. And I can't be there to fix them. I'm trying to save myself.

I happened to mention my brother. Oh, that really pissed my Dad off. But how many times can I tell him, he is a big part, of the current problems. How can a man, that is older than my Mom, live with them? Does my Dad really think it was going to be OK? My brother doesn't respect my Mom or me. That's why I've avoided going home. Yes, I used to go home a lot more often. For a week or 2 in the summer. But how can I now? Oh ya, in front of my Dad he acts like this saint of a son and brother. But he's not!

And the neighbors, my Dad doesn't want to know the real reasons why they won't talk to them. The neighbor across the street approached me about my brother. What was I supposed to do? Lie? I just didn't say anything. They showed me the papers they got. But whatever. "We're" not supposed to talk about it.

There are so many things going on. And when I mentioned to my Dad that perhaps my parents should see a counselor. Or maybe each of them talk to a friend. Forget it. He didn't like it. But how in the world, does he think, it's OK to throw all of this crap on top of me? I see a counselor and a psychologist. Just trying to deal with this. All of it! I'm not embarrassed to admit it. Sometimes, we just have to admit what's wrong. It's the only way we're ever going to fix it.

Can I tell you something? I've had a horrible day today. Just plain out horrible. I've never in my life had this kind of pain. Not even after my surgery. Never. Ever. And I've never struggled to breathe this much in my entire life! But I can't afford to go to the doctor. I don't even want to think about what it would cost to go to the ER. And I've never, ever in my life, felt like I've needed to go more that I do today.

And on top of that, I was supposed to go talk to Dr. S. tonight. There is no way I'm going now. I'm late. Seriously late. After my Dad and I got off the phone, I was way too emotional. And already 45 minutes late! Dr. S. was probably planning to just yell at me anyone. Because no one can understand that I seriously can't afford school anymore. I'm broke. And my job is just not cutting it anymore...

Do you know that my life is in absolute ruins at the moment? I feel like I'm in free fall. And nobody, not a single soul, could give a damn! That's my life. I can rely more on my friends than I can on my family. It's just fact. They're so wrapped up, in drama that they create for themselves, that I'm left flapping in the wind. It's always been this way!

And then my Dad has the nerve to tell me that he wishes he would just die. He wants to die right now. Are you freaking serious? He absolutely has no clue. None whatsoever. And here I am. His daughter. His youngest daughter. Over 3 hours away, I can't feel my 2 appendages, I'm struggling to breathe, and you tell me this. How on earth do you think, that is not going to bother me?

I swear to God, I can't win for trying. Not in anything in life. Not in trying to talk to my Dad. Not in music. Because he didn't want me to have a career in it. Never mind that I made more money playing birthday parties, than I ever did at the hospital. I enjoyed it. And I was at least able to afford school and food at the same time. It never mattered to anyone that I nearly killed myself trying to work and go to school. That at one point, I was malnourished. Because I was trying to pay for school. And I honestly couldn't afford food.

Never mind that I've had to walk away from the only thing that was keeping me afloat...my internship. Even with all the violence I had to endure, being held at gunpoint and all, that was all I had. An internship where I felt useful and productive. I'm scrapping what little money I have, just to pay for tuition. I know I'm going to have to do without books. I picked up an application for the National Guard yesterday. That's how desperate I am.

But nothing matters. It doesn't matter that I've been on the Dean's List since I started college. Or that I have a 4.0 GPA. None of that matters. Because people are too wrapped up in their own lives. All my Dad can ever see is, this child that is his daughter. And why in hell can't I graduate already. I feel like a failure in his eyes. I always have. No matter how hard I try.

My brother is so freaking paranoid that I'm going to walk away with everything, that he had the nerve to put me down when I left last week. I almost told my Dad. ALMOST! I was so close to telling him just what my brother said. Because he always waits until no one is around. Grow a pair. Be a man, and say what is on your mind in front of our Dad. If you have the guts to tell me, tell him too! Are you honestly going to tell me crap about bringing home groceries? Because Lord help me, my parents bought me some food. Free willed. I never told them that they had too. Or that I needed it.

This while he stays in their home. It's been almost 7 months. He doesn't buy food. All summer that I've gone, he wasn't working. But he feels like he has the right to tell me something about my groceries? Oh, bull crap! Do you even know how to clean the bathroom you use? Can you offer to do the dishes after I cook? No. You eat, and you run to your girlfriend.

Do you know that soon after he moved in with them, he said something to me? Ya. Something very hurtful. Something that made me refuse to go to the store with my parents. Something that stuck in my head. That had me avoiding my parents' house. I wouldn't let them buy me a loaf of bread. I hardly went to visit them for a long time. Then when I would go, I would avoid being at the house. I'd go to the library during the day. And the office at night. Because of what he said. But our Dad never knew the truth...

Then sometime during the summer, I said to hell with him. If he gets to live there for free, and eat for free...who is he to tell me anything, when my parents buy me some groceries? So when my parents wanted to take a road trip, I was game for it. Or if they felt like buying me some groceries or a couple of shirts, I figured, it was THEIR BUSINESS. NOT HIS! It's not like I'm running off with THEIR money. Or only going to see them for food, trips, and shopping. I go to see them. BOTH of my parents. Because I think he forgets that MY MOM is just as important as OUR DAD! I still only eat 1 meal a day. And a little something when I take my medication. I still live off of very little money. But I do this on my own. Can he say the same?

But that is what I'm dealing with. I just pray to God that he helps my parents. They need all the prayers they can get. Whether it's time for them to part ways or not. Maybe they shouldn't have listened to their 5 year old daughter, 22 years ago. The daughter that begged them to get married...

And I also prayed to God, that if there is something serious wrong with me, just to take me. I can't handle this much longer. The pain. Both physical and emotional. I'm sitting here an empty shell. Unable to let anyone love me. I can't trust. And I'm starting to lose faith in this game we call life. I really have no faith in people. Not Mr. Blue Eyes who wants nothing more than to help me heal. And to love me. Not the Cowboy who makes me smile, with the sound of his voice. Not Sanchocito who I really thought I could let in. And most certainly not J. The man who would do anything for me. But I can't.

These are my friends. What they don't realize is the hurt and the pain I've lived through. My inability to trust anyone. Or to truly believe that someone can love you without, expecting something from you. Or hurting you. I'm so afraid of being hurt. But honestly, how much worse can it get? This horrible secret that I've had stuck inside me, since I was 7 years old, I could never ever tell my parents. I would never know how to begin...

Let's be real. They have enough going on. And maybe I was only sent to earth to try and make peace of their lives. I don't know. I sit and ask God every single day to give me strength. To help me along. But at this point, not only is the world fighting against me. My own body is turning on itself.

I don't know how much more I can take. I really wish Memo or O was here. I need someone to just listen to me. To reassure me that I'm going to make it until tomorrow. Because I'm really not sure. Everything hurts. My heart, my head, my soul. Physical pain. Emotion pain. Mental pain.

People see me. They really think I have it all together. How else would they trust me with their kids? What else would motivate people to ask me to be their kids' Godmother, or their Madrina for their wedding? I'm not sure. I want to be as strong as people think I am. I'm just not sure that I am. Or that I have the ability anymore.

I've always said there is a lot of fight inside of me. But when there is nothing left. And you're an empty shell, where do you dig for what you need to survive? I'm at that point. I want to call someone to talk to. But the only person that comes to mind, he has enough on his plate. A serious illness that has returned. And do I really want to burden him with all of this? Do I want him to see this disastrous side of my life? The side that makes me not believe in love or in people.

At this point, I know I'm in the world alone. I know that for a fact. After today, that was made blatantly clear. From a parent that felt his emotional needs were greater than my physical ones, to the loss in humanity as a whole. I wipe away the tears, I try to gather strength, and I pray to God that he gives me another day to live. No matter how hard you work, life is nothing more than a dog fight. ♥

Life is Funny...

One minute someone is telling me hurtful and awful things. My heart is broken into a million pieces. And I'm just drained. Physically and emotionally. Then I walk into church. A place that I feel so safe and loved in, and start to feel better. My heart and soul begin to heal.

I go to mass during the week. At least twice, sometimes 3 times. And it makes me feel better. All of a sudden, people aren't judging me. They're loving me. I'm surrounded by God and people that really do love me. Not because they have to, but because they want to. At the end of the day, I can say that much. My friends love me. And their kids, there is nothing I'd rather see than those smiling little faces.

As I felt emotionally spent and completely exhausted, I turned to God tonight and asked him for patients, his love, his knowledge, guidance, and a little faith. I needed it. I know people say things without thinking them through. But it doesn't make them hurt any less. Words are powerful. And they sting.

But tonight, when I walked into church, I was met with a hug from Papa Rene. And these smiling little faces that I love so much! Welcomed into the pew where my friends sat. And I was surrounded by love. Love that is much needed and Welcomed. I forget how important love is. And a night like tonight, it was Welcomed and needed.

The words we heard in mass, were powerful. And about love and forgiveness. Very fitting for the day I had. Holding babies, who tightly grasped my fingers, and feeling hugs from little girls, it just helped to heal my soul and my heart even more. :)

I didn't grow up with this kind of love and affection. And forget very easily, just how important it is. But tonight, God sent me all this love. Because he knew, I needed it. I needed it as much as I needed air. And the big bear hug from Memo, well it's the kind of hug I wish I could get from my own Dad.

At the end of mass, like every mass I go to, Papa Rene hugs each of us individually. And blesses us. I got an extra little prayer tonight. I think he just knew I needed it. And Memo invited us all over for dinner. But I was spent. As much as I needed my friends, I needed some rest too. Memo understood.

He slipped me $10 to go pick up something to eat. And told me to go home and rest. Isn't that such a "Dad" thing to do? I think so. I skipped my grocery shopping. Drove to get a burrito and came home.

I spent 30 minutes watching the birds and eating. Trying to remind myself of all the good things I have in life. Of all the good that God has sent my way. Remembering how strong I am. And how much I've survived. There has to be a reason I'm still here. And then I get that call. From the tiny little voice that I love so very much. And heart just grew with love. It was Sarita.

My dear Goddaughter who is fighting for her life. She called because she told me that she knew her Nana needed some love tonight. Her "Angel" had told her that. She definitely put a smile on my face. And we talked for almost an hour. About 'Rella and Papa Memo. About the birdies and what we are going to do when she comes home. I miss her. And I now realize, there are more important things in life. Beginning and ending with the people that really matter. The ones that make your life better, simply by knowing them.

I know that. I've always known that. My little angel reminded me of that tonight. No matter how hard life gets, you can't give up. If Sarita can fight cancer, I can fight all these things that are coming at me. But most of all, I've learned how powerful love is. We just know when someone needs our love. Don't be afraid to pick up the phone and tell someone just how much you love them. It might just make their day! ♥

A Big Day

Today is one of those very important days in my life. I become a Godmother again. I don't take it lightly either. This is one of those really important days in a baby's life. The day that 4 adults begin the journey, with this innocent child. Guiding them through their religion. Teaching them about faith, life, and most importantly...love.

I don't know Miguel very well. He's going to be Emma's Godfather. But we've met and talked 3 times. He is a really nice guy. Very down-to-earth. And someone that will help to keep Emma grounded. We are all beginning this journey together. To make sure this perfect little girl grows up to love, respect, and believe in Our Lord.

One a day like this, we look past the beautiful white clothing, all the pomp and circumstance, past the party. Today is about our vow to God. We are all taking on the responsibility for this beautiful baby. That we will teach her and guide her as she grows. I'm excited about that. Excited to share Our Amazing Dear Lord with Emma.

And I'm also excited about all the physical aspects of today. I can't wait to go pick up Emma. To get her dressed. To finally see her in her little baptismo gown that I made. I can't wait to see her be completely dunked in the water. To get to light the candle for her. To make the promises for her and to her. For Emma to officially become Emma Grace.

Later today, we are also going to enjoy a big party. One that is especially for Emma. Celebrating her. Her birth, the little angel that she is. God is great! He blesses us with little angels like Emma, to remind of that there is love in our world. Today is about celebrating her. Celebrating the life that is to come. And our commitment to her and God. The 4 of us are making those promises today. I can't wait to officially become Miss Emma Grace's Nana!!! ♥