By Crystal Fulmer 
She’s 13 and it feels like she’s always been with me.
She’s gone through five moves, the loss of her unborn brother, her mother’s mental health struggles, and the addition of three new siblings through adoption.
She’s struggled with social anxiety and finding her quiet spot in a sea of overwhelm and chaos.
She’s lost friendships and gained some.
She’s questioned her faith and wondered about her purpose.
Yet almost every Sunday, she stands with our amazing worship team and praises her God.
Each week, her voice grows louder and more confident, and her melodic, sweet tone fills the room.
I often wonder with all the bumpy roads we’ve gone down in her short life, in all the big and small ways I’ve failed to be exactly what she needs . . . how do I deserve such grace?
How many mothers have the privilege of being led into the very throne room of God by their child?
Every Sunday, I hold back tears as my heart swells with pride.
Her sweet voice and encouraging spirit are like a balm to my soul.
I hear God say, “It’s going to be okay, Momma. You’re going to be okay and so is your family. You’re all nestled safely in the palm of My hand.”
I’m so glad that in this parenting journey, through highs and lows, God holds my babies.
And there is nothing more redemptive than hearing my child’s sweet song rise to Him.
by Lindsay Meier 
by Marissa Khosh 
by Amanda Idleman 
