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.