“Nearer my God to thee, nearer to thee! Ev’n though it be a cross that raiseth me.”
I sang the chorus of the old hymn, hovering above the crib of my daughter’s darkened room. Wistful sadness washed over me, but not depressed sadness this time. This kind was the kind that always comes when it’s finally time to stop singing softly and patting the downy head of a baby, time to back out of the room and shut the door with the slightest ‘click’.
I’d been recovering from postpartum depression for some time, and retreating from Zoe’s room without thinking once about the pain of sending her to daycare the next day was a small victory. Maybe this was it. Maybe God in His mercy had brought me to my Bethel. Continue reading