Twelve years ago, I met two midwives who became a dear part of our story. For nine months, they walked alongside me. They encouraged me.
And when the time came, they came too.
Their quiet demeanor graced the room as they moved softly about . . . there but not there. They checked on me every so often, but mostly, they created an atmosphere where my husband and I could labor together, bringing new life into the world.
Their presence was a gift to me. They possessed an intuitive sense of when to let nature be, and when to step in if I needed care.
For a long time afterward, I fancied the idea of the doing the same for other women.
To be there. To encourage and support. To bear witness to the beauty of new life.
I turned my thoughts into actions and researched the years of study required, first to become a nurse, then a certified nurse-midwife. Then, with a plan in place, I spoke my dream. I waited until our tiny cherub peacefully slept, and I told my husband how I’d like to become a midwife.
He nodded as he listened.
When I finished, I waited for his response. But his words were slow in coming.
Finally he said, “Denise, I think you’d be a great midwife. I can understand why you’re drawn to the idea . . . but . . . I think after a while . . . you’d miss writing.”
Even as he spoke the words, I knew he was right. I was created to work with words and shape ideas. To break the waters on the page and bring forth new life in a different way.
Yet, something inside me still longed to come alongside women — in a quiet, soft, encouraging way.
I never could have imagined how dreams are sometimes birthed one way, and realized another way.
This past year I’ve had the privilege of joining a team of women who are devoted to writing words of encouragement for the hearts of women everywhere.
Their mission matches my own heartbeat.
And I get to do the very thing I love most — come alongside women and work with words that bring light and life.
When I shared with my husband the idea of being the Editorial Coordinator for (in)courage, I watched him as he spent a few minutes studying their website.
Then he turned to me and said, “Well, it sure looks like a perfect fit for you. But I think your first assignment as editor is a pretty tough one.”
I said, “What do you mean?”
He pointed to the computer screen and said, “Somehow you’re gonna have to break it to ’em that they’re spelling the word encourage wrong.”
Someday I might do that.
But I kinda like it when things aren’t exactly the way we think they ought to be — like creative spellings and phonetic meanings.
I’m thankful for the unexpected, the unforeseen.
Especially when it brings a new way of seeing things.