Raising Izzy: How God Answered My Cries Through My Goddaughter

Raising my goddaughter has been one of the most humbling experiences of my life. Since she was just one year old, I was assigned the role of “Godmother.” At the time, I was already a godmother to my godson Jayden, so I didn’t think it would be much different. I assumed it would mean a few Christmas gifts, maybe a birthday party every year. I never imagined what our life would become.

Now my goddaughter is 5 years old and she is the most precious gift to me. She came into my life during a season of great sadness and distress. Most women know what I mean when I say, “the clock is ticking.” I watched my peers get married and have children while I remained single, praying for Mr. Right. I often cried at my Father’s feet, pouring out the void I felt at not yet having a family of my own. My mother called it “baby fever,” but I knew it was more than that. This wasn’t just a longing, it felt like an attack on my peace and my faith.

But the Lord heard my cries and gave me Izzy, a baby girl whose circumstances were so unique that she became a part of my family. The Lord knew what she needed, and He knew what I needed. We needed each other.

Even now, I am learning so much through her. I’m learning to be selfless and patient. I’m learning to share burdens and communicate. I’m learning the importance of a biblical foundation for everything I expose her to. And I’m learning to be a version of myself that cannot let my dreams die.

I often think of Izzy in the future school I dream of building. I think about stewarding her talents and teaching her how to worship God even at a young age. I imagine her laughing, dancing, and shining with a heart so dependent on God that she becomes a burning star everywhere she goes.

This dream of starting a school lived in me long before I met Izzy, but having her in my life has made it real. Now, I strive for it not just for myself, but for her, and for all the spiritual children the Lord has trusted me with. I have always nurtured the children around me, but at the end of the day, they would return to their parents for the rest of their teaching and discipline. With my goddaughter, the responsibility is mine and my household’s.

We raise her day in and day out, trusting that what we plant in her will continue to bear fruit for generations to come.