I was recently asked by a dear friend to be her daughter's godmother, and not just in the figurative sense. In the case of a tragedy, we are the literal guardians of little Maya. The request came over lunch: two friends eating tomatoes and mozzarella catching up about the last month we hadn't seen each other was about to get a lot more serious.

"So Erik and I are working on our will and we wanted to ask if you and Nate would consider being guardians." She went on to say of course they understood this is a big request and we could of course say no.

My heart fluttered and an overwhelming feeling caught up to my tear ducts as I remembered the Winter of 2009.

I was one of the first to find out about this precious little being. I took her mama to the ER because she had violent morning sickness that lasted for months on end, all day long.

We didn't understand then how this little girl would change our lives. My friend's, of course, in becoming a wonderful mother and me in how you expect to be there for a friend in need - expecting nothing in return.

My expectations were the same about being a godparent: I didn't expect it at all. I would never assume that decision of anyone's family. So I became flushed with gratitude and honor at the thought that someone would want me to raise her child.

I went home and through tears explained the request to my husband. By the end of the conversation we were both crying.

"She said that she loves how intentional we are with our life. That we believe in something bigger than ourselves - our connection to the earth and to God and to them," I felt the tear journey down my cheek as I journeyed into the memory of Thanksgiving last year. We invited her and her family, new baby in tow. It felt like a natural family as we went around the table saying what we were thankful for.  There we were, our small extended relatives, our neighbor who lives by himself, and this new family.  Suddenly DNA didn't matter - we were all related.

"My first response is yes, but I want to pray about it for a bit to see if there is any hint of a 'no'," my husband responded with later on in all his wisdom.

I reflected on times I just jumped on board with decisions, not understanding what I was committing to or not reflecting contemplatively on a major question.

In the event of a tragedy, we would be raising this child. That is huge - we pray that doesn't happen, but that is the reality of this request - their most precious gift - their baby girl.

Little questions come with big commitments:

Will you play with me?

Do you want this job?

Will you marry me?

Will you be my friend?

Do you swear to tell the whole truth?

Do you vow, swear, act without thinking of what you're actually signing up for? Yesterday was National Non-Parents Day. I read an article about couples choosing not to have children. For a long time my husband and I were in that boat. Our marriage was enough to be concerned about.  The author said there is research that shows couples divorce at a higher rate because the kids kept people together.  A woman without children was quoted saying she got divorced because, "I don't think love should be work."

I hate to put this bluntly, but, honestly honey, what did you expect?  Love.Is.Hard.Work. And after years of inner healing work and counseling my husband and I have reopened the conversation about having kids not for our marriage's sake or because "it's time." Rather, we now feel we have a healthy community and love strong enough and committed enough to pass along to someone else.  And that is how we would feel if we weren't going to have kids too, that we need to educate and empower others, that everyone is valuable: single, married, kids, no-kids, divorced, widowed, etc.  To live your life in a space of love is hard work. Period.

It's a commitment, a solemn vow - but they don't make you take vows in the delivery room. With that in mind, Nate and I took this request and made a commitment as godparents that we're not going to be the in-case-of-emergency contact. We are going to be there, alongside her parents, backing them up and being an influence in her life.  We are going to stayed connected for the rest of our lives... that is a big deal.

It's a promise, a choice, and a commitment - something that has been sacrificed far too often in my culture. As the deficit grows larger and my trust grows weaker in an immature society, I find myself building into a more intentional way of living in my community - small scale: connecting to my roots, communicating with Nate about pretty much everything, and living my life out of deep commitments to my community, land, home, work and the Spirit.  It's important to take that all very seriously, but as my old boss says, never take ourselves too seriously.

That is the tension of life and it meets in this place of love, a place where small questions are asked and then taking the time to consider their impact. Maybe the child asking to play wouldn't feel a lifetime of parents being too busy. Maybe the woman getting divorced because "love was too hard" wouldn't have gotten married in the first place. Maybe you would've taken the job because starting out in the mail room really could have been a great journey. Maybe not. However, pausing to really take the time to understand if our yeses mean yes and our nos mean no is definitely worth it because these small considerations just might be some of the the most sacred commitments you will ever make.