She belongs here. Under my roof. She belongs in her bed. Steps away from my room. She belongs where I can get to her when she cries and she can get to me when she is lonely in the middle of the night.
This child that I would give everything for. This child that God has given me to nurture and love and protect. This child who has already seen big hurts in her life. She belongs with me.
She knows it. I know it. I wish that was enough. If she has to spend nights under some other roof and she cries out for me and I can’t come, will she know I wish I could? Or will she only know that I didn’t show up?
Here. With me. With the mom who loves her unconditionally and is striving to raise her well. With the one who has stood by her side every minute of every day. With the one who cheers her on and and is teaching her how strong and capable she is. With the one who is here to listen and talk and share and play and love.
She belongs here.