Alex decided he was hungry, so I fed him and thought it would be nice for the two of us to visit for a little while. It was the first time we'd been by ourselves when he was awake, and as I sat in the squishy vinyl hospital chair and stared at what was surely the most precious face I had ever seen, I told that little man how much I loved him, how thankful I was for the privilege of being his mama. And I thought about my very favorite passage of Scripture--one I'd committed to memory when I was seventeen years old and had no idea how faithful the Lord would be through the struggles and wonders and heartaches and joys that lay ahead: "Now to Him Who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations forever and ever" (Ephesians 3:20-21).

And then I cried. Because having a child--being a family--was an "immeasurably more" moment for me. I was overcome with gratitude that God had given us the gift of this sweet baby--a gift that, for most of my life, I had no idea I wanted...

That's the thing about the "immeasurably more." God prepares you for it even when it's nowhere on your to-do list.

And now that I have the benefit of looking at my childhood through a lens with some wisdom attached, it occurs to me that during all those Sunday dinners when I was growing up, I learns something way more important than how to make a pitcher of sweet tea or where to put the salad fork or when to pick up dinner plates before Mama served dessert. I learned something more important than how to be a lady even.

I learned to listen and to laugh. I learned to forgive. I learned that some earthly love really is unconditional. I learned that God is always at work in the day to day. I learned that even when you're sad or embarrassed or just plain mad, you're always welcome at the table.

And more than anything else, I learned how to take care of people. I learned how to let them take care of me. I learned how to be a family.

I didn't have the slightest clue that anyone was teaching me, of course.

But I'm forever grateful for the lesson.
(~Sophie Hudson, A Little Salty to Cut the Sweet, pp. 49, 50, 52)