“Noooo! I don’t want to!” At four years old, she’s already fiercely independent. At four years old, my foster daughter has already known more loss, disappointment, and pain than my four decades of adulthood. So when her eyes glare at me with laser-sharp focus from under a furrowed brow, and a tantrum of tears meant to test my resolve (and my love), I think of Jesus. There are no words. Out of all the books I’ve read and Easter Sunday sermons I’ve heard, overflowing with comforting wisdom, prophetic prose, and life lessons, there are still no words adequate, big enough, deep enough to contain andRead More →