I was leaving church. Had my coat on. My scarf around my neck. I passed a tight circle of people and I looked to see who was praying. And that’s when I saw her.
Her face crumpled as our eyes met. She pushed out her arms and I opened mine and held her tight.
She’s the age of my own daughters. A young woman I love and admire. A young woman who discovered that God loved her, that she wasn’t meant for addiction and living in the street, a young mom who was hugely pregnant the first time I met her in a small rehab class where I taught The Mom I Want to Be.
And now a young mom who had relapsed. [Read more…]