I curled my arms around her as her tired little body molded perfectly into mine after an exhaustingly fun day of playing in the woods. "Tell me a story, Mama"? she asked. It's become one of my favorite parts of being Ana's mommy. Getting to make up stories for her to enjoy.
I started writing words across the dark night air with my voice as she and I were engaged in the storybook of our two minds, connected by words and experiences of days past. I told of two little ones who escaped their home, finally to be found by their mama and then another and another until Daddy said, "No.More. Stories." Daddies always seem to tire of words before Mommies.
It encourages my heart to know my Father is a storywriter. It blesses me to know it's one way I get to reflect who He is.
He wrote the greatest story that will ever be written from the beginning of time to eternity. All other stories pale greatly in comparison.
I can speak words into the air but HE SPOKE LIGHT INTO EXISTENCE.
HE SPOKE THE SKY AND EARTH INTO EXISTENCE.
And HE named them.
And HE named her, too.
This little one, Ana (with one N) Grace, from half a world away, before I knew she even existed, He named her.
Her name means "gracious"...like Ananias, the one sent to Saul to let Him know he would carry God's name to others.
God speaks through this little one often as she reminds me that my God indeed is Gracious.
I get to be her Mommy.
I get to search for words and connect them and make stories for her enjoyment and God's glory.