Last Sunday, March 11, Anali was dedicated at our church. Our families visited and joined us on stage to bless our baby girl and feasted at Brandon's parents house that afternoon. I looked forward to it for months. I couldn't wait to have our daughter dedicated, to receive the collective prayers of hundreds of people at once. What I didn't expect was how anticlimactic it would feel. I realized later why that was. Brandon and I dedicated Anali to the Lord before we even knew she was conceived. Every day of these nine months she has lived with the blessing of God upon her life. The prayer of a pastor wasn't going to make that any more powerful, just more formal. With her relatives on stage celebrating her, what it did was create a visual commitment to Anali from those who love her most that her life is worth getting all dressed up for. Her life is worth a two-hour drive, a night on the floor, a rushed breakfast, a scratchy dress, a difficult walk to the stage, and a spotlight in the face. The nicest thought is God thinks her life is worth way more than that, I'm told.
