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I Choose To Believe The Best Is Yet To Come

Call me naïve.

Each morning I wake up with a heart full of joy. I do. Some may scoff, but I truly bound out of bed when my alarm goes off at 4:50 each morning fueled with the possibilities each day brings, I am refreshed with His new mercies that greet me as I sip my hot cup of coffee.

Call me naïve, but that is the kind of world I want to live in.

Call me naïve, but that is the world I want to raise my daughters in.

I have always been called naïve, and at first, it felt like an insult. But over time and as I age, I take it as a compliment. It means I have hope. It means I am positive. It means I am not going to let the world jade me.

Momming with cancer was and is, hands down, the hardest chapter of my life. Many mornings fear tried to engulf me . . . until my daughters walked down the stairs in their footie pajamas. Then my heart settled into my chest and peace swept over me. Joy ignited in my heart.

Call me naïve.

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