As I sit here cradling my baby, debating what kind of momma I want to be, I know that no matter what other decisions I make, I want to raise people who love God before all else—I want to raise disciples.
I want those soft hands which have clung to mine to clasp together in prayer—not just when things are tough but every single day. Hands they hold up in passionate and unashamed worship.
I want to raise disciples.
I want those perfect little ears to hear the Word, not just at church and school, but at home. And that they may come to know they can find answers to all things in His Word.
I want to raise disciples.
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I want those beautiful brown eyes I have gazed into for so long, to look upon everyone they meet as equal, as other children of God—neighbors and brothers and sisters in Christ.
I want to raise disciples.
I want those sweetheart lips to speak only good and kind words, to tell the Good News, to sing His praises, and to smile at the beauty of God’s creation all around them.
I want to raise disciples.
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I want those tiny feet I have held in the palms of my hand to never forget their way home, to walk a path that leads them to Jesus. And when they find Him, for those feet to follow Him always.
I want to raise disciples.
Previously published on the author’s Facebook page