Daughters.

There are faces, just a face that can remind me that my life has a purpose I may never understand. My daughter's faces do that. Whether they're smiling or rolling their eyes at me -- I know that being their mother will define me forever. Mothers and daughters...often written about, rarely celebrated. What is it about this chemistry, this relationship, that often gets so tangled and twisted?
In the past two weeks, 2 of my close friends have adopted daughters. One traveled hours and hours across oceans and continents to gather her child unto her. To make her family whole and complete. There is no sense of "rescuing" in my friends mind, even though this sweet baby spent the first year of her life learning how to comfort herself, putting herself to sleep, and staring at the ceiling of an orphanage. My other friend, got a call in the morning, drove to the hospital in the afternoon and loaded her tiny newborn daughter into her SUV and drove home. In all the in between times she was collecting and washing and folding girl things (she's already the Mom of 3 boys). Giddiness at times getting the better of her, but again, this was not a rescue, this was a completing. Two families who were missing someone and now these girls have slipped right into the spot that was their's all along. I'm so proud of both of my friends. Two women with hearts so large in love. These two, such generous lovers of all people that they call me to be better. To be more generous with my grace, to receive love and care more gracefully, to never give up no matter how long the silence or absence has been. I think I'll start with my daughters.