For a few seconds after my mother said she could not congratulate me for “defying God’s will,” no one moved.

Yours. All of them. Abel gave me words for my fear, and I used them like stones. That is not faith. That is cowardice wearing a cross.”

My throat tightened.

She continued, crying now. “You were conceived with medical help. I knew. I rewrote it because shame was easier if I called it miracle. Then when you needed the same kind of help, I hated in you continue reading …