A Home for Baby

This morning, I decided to walk Benjamin to his classroom instead of dropping him off in the carpool line. I don't usually walk him into school, but I wanted to ask his teacher a couple of questions, and I am so thankful that I did.

As I was turning to leave, his teacher stopped me and said that she wanted to show me something. Yesterday, she had asked the children to use their imaginations to draw a picture of something that served as a home for something else. She encouraged them to be creative (i.e. a pantry is a house for food; a cow is a house for milk).

When she showed me Benjamin's picture, my eyes filled with tears. His picture was titled, "A mommy is a house for a baby." He had drawn a picture of a pregnant mommy. She was standing beneath a dark-blue sky filled with clouds. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, but there was a single beam of light piercing through the clouds, shining down on the mommy.

It was the most beautiful drawing that I have ever seen. I was simply amazed, not because of his artistic talent, but because of his incredible insight. It reminded me of a story that a friend told me a few days ago.

She told me how she felt led to drive to the top of a mountain early one morning when she was wrestling with God, but she couldn't understand why because the air was thick with fog. As she was driving up the mountain, she asked, "Why God? Why would you have me drive all this way when I can't see a thing?" When she got to the top, she got out of her car, sat down, and said, "Ok, I'm here. Now what?"

At that very moment, the sky opened, and she saw the sun shining through the clouds. And she knew - God was there. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the sun disappeared behind the clouds again. But as she looked up into the sky, she knew that the sun was still there, even though she couldn't see it.

In that moment, it was as if God said, "I am still here. You just can't see me."

And so many times, this is how the story goes. In my darkest moments, it sometimes feels as if God has disappeared altogether because I cannot see Him, and I most certainly cannot understand His plan. But truly, my God has not left me. I may not be able to see Him, but I am confident that He is still here, and His plan is still on course.

And some days, like today, I get to see a ray of light shining down upon me, and I am reminded that He has not forgotten me. My body was David's home for nine short months, but now heaven is his home, and one day we will be home together.

Trusting Today

Eight months ago, God called me to have faith to believe that nothing is impossible with Him.

And I believed.

Seven months ago, God called me to put my faith into action by going before the elders of our church to pray for David’s healing in accordance with James 5.

And I went.

Six months ago, my precious David was born into this world to live for seven sweet hours after which God took him from my arms.

And I questioned.

Why did God call me to believe Him and ask Him for the impossible when He already knew that the answer to my prayers would be “no”? How can I ever really trust Him again?

I am still questioning.

This morning, the 6-month anniversary of my sweet David’s birth, I crawled out of bed to begin another day … without David. I began praying one of the only prayers that I know how to pray these days, which is The Lord’s Prayer. I figured that it must be a good one since Jesus is the author.

When I got to the part of the prayer that says, “Give us this day our daily bread,” I started to make a mental checklist of all of the things that I thought I needed to get through the day. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks – trust was on the list.

Trusting in God is part of my daily bread.

I may not be able to say that I trust God with the rest of my life right now because I have no idea what He has in store, and I'm not sure if I'm going to like it. But, I think that I can trust Him just for today.

And maybe my trust in Him today is all that He requires.