Rosie

We call Emma, "Rosie," but that's not her name. It's not even her middle name. But everything about her is "Rosie," as she came out of my womb with the largest rosy cheeks a mom could ever desire so as to smooch and cuddle.
As she has grown up to be 5, her nickname still stands. She is strikingly beautiful and hard to open up at times. She is rather mysterious and OH so sensitive. She is my lil rose.

Putting Emma to bed the other night I was totally enamored by her innocence and had the most intense moment of loving this kid. I was scratching her back, knowing my days with her like this are fleeting. The age old parallel of Gods love for us, as compared to our love for our kids, hit me like a ton of bricks. I sat next to her all teary eyed as I tried to even remotely understand that incredibly real comparison of how much God loves his children. All of them.
It's something spoken too often and rarely understood. But I think I tasted a glimpse of that this week.

I know God loves me drastically more than my love for my 3 kids. I tried to picture this brown little face out there, that will someday be close to mine. It's hard not knowing him yet. But I was thankful in that moment that God used my lil Rose to help me smell-- or taste--or see, that HE loves that little brown face, Ellie, Emma, and Griffin, even more than I do. I guess being a parent is constantly learning that we aren't in control, eh? It's constantly learning we have to trust the God who made them, WITH them.