Today is the last day of November, so it's the last day that I'll write a daily gratitude. I didn't make it to 30, but that's okay. I didn't want it to become a chore. I also didn't write these in order of magnitude. Some days I just wrote what was on my mind. But there are two that I've been saving up for the end. So here we go...
Today, I am grateful for a blonde-headed little person named Story Lamm Wermel. Lately I've observed that when someone who loves Story sees her or talks about her, they can't help but smile. As Story's momma, I am 100% biased, but I think the reason for that is because Story is delightful. She is a sweet and funny and caring little person. And she happens to be ours.
There's something about this little human that makes other people well. Being around Story is like a salve for the soul. After I had Grey, something weird happened to me physiologically. My hormones crashed out and anxiety consumed my mind. I had friends and family praying for me everywhere, but one of the things that helped me the most was stroking Story's long, golden hair while we watched Thomas the Train. In that moment, I felt almost normal.
Like all people, Story was born into sin. She has her moments where sin manifests itself in selfishness, ridiculous toddler tantrums, disobedience. We are trying everyday to point Story to her need for Jesus to be her Savior from that sinful nature.
Even so, I can see how God created this person in His image, and she teaches me what it means to just rejoice in what He has made. One day, Story and I were driving in the car with my dad. As we passed the courthouse and law enforcement buildings in downtown Fayetteville, we pointed the buildings out to her and told her that was where Granddaddy works. Granddaddy, more tongue in cheek than anything, asked her "Story, where do you work?" She responded immediately. "Helper." We both thought that answer was perfect. She is indeed a helper. She helps me all the time around the house, and helps Granddaddy pick up sticks on the farm. How beautiful that she sees herself as a helper. What a profound lesson there is in that for me.
Oh, my Story girl, there aren't enough words to write how much I love you. I love each minute of the day with you, even when I am tired and you are whiny. You challenge me and delight me each and every day. I am so proud of you, and watching you grow is my JOY. You are fearfully and wonderfully made, and you are the perfect gift. I pray that you know Jesus and learn to obey Him so He can make you into the true you He desires you to be. I love you, my Munchie Munch. And I am so grateful I get to be your momma.
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