God is Good to the Johnsons

There's nothing quite like being eight and a half months pregnant. I'm feeling like my abdomen is a time bomb about to explode to reveal the most cuddly and precious little blessing ever... and in this interim I'm joyful, anxious, nervous, and reflective. I've always admired how kids are down to earth, genuinely funny, and especially Christlike. Before I forget what it's like to have my little munchkin Charlie bopping around inside me, I want to pen just a few of the ways he's helped me come closer to Jesus already. I didn't start "showing" until I was 25 weeks pregnant, and even then it was ambiguous (there's the people at the grocery store that stared at me funny and then nonchalantly looked away, because they wanted to ask if I was pregnant but were afraid of just calling me out for being a bit chubby if they said anything. Their facial expressions always made me want to laugh and cry at the same time). Anyways, I could feel my littl...