y six-month-old daughter quiet through the service and making sure I didn't look like the exhausted singl

ke he stepped right out of a magazine. There was nothing overly dramatic about him-no flashy suit, no oversized cross, no booming voice. Just ca

d eye contact, but it was too late. He smiled. That kind of slow, r

And honestly, way too good-looking for a man of God. As he stepped up to the pulpit, my heart did s

so,

in, restoration, and how God still writes beautiful stories from broken beginnings. At one point, I

because for the first time in a long time, I

d. I had no interest in socializing. But church peopl

d with a wide smile. "One of our you

ven brushed my bab

her name?" He leaned gently toward my daughter

uddenly aware of how

then looked at me again.

was

moment. No

g a tired young mum th

at was

t, I coul

cause Zara woke

doing a great job. And I wondered what it would