As I folded the laundry today I separated a small basket of kid’s clothes that was mixed in with ours. Even though my munchkins do their own laundry there always seems to be something mixed in with ours. Delicate church dresses, extras that didn’t fit in their load, underwear that had to be changed, socks from the hall, etc. Today I thanked the Lord for the mix of clothes.

I remember when it was just his clothes and mine mixed with my longing for a baby. I remember the year of miscarriages – that’s what I call it because that’s what I remember most from that year. Maybe I’ll talk about it more another time, but for now I just want to say that I’m pretty sure I beat depression that year.

I beat it with tears running down my face, my Bible open on the kitchen table, and the promise that the joy of the Lord is my strength. I clung to that promise until it sunk to the depths of my soul, until He dried my tears, and the Sonlight again became bright.