Author: Christy Smith

Mother’s Day was the worst day of the year.  I dreaded it.  Most years on Mother’s Day, I sought solace in the cold darkness of my bed, where I wouldn’t have to see the flowers…the cards…the social media pictures of friends with their own mothers. I wouldn’t have to face imminent tears at a church service honoring motherhood. But under those sheets, I wrestled with painful, antagonizing reminders that I was motherless…and that was exactly where God wanted me. Two months after my twentieth birthday, a rare brain tumor sent… Continue reading A Softened Heart of Stone