More than Enough

It is difficult to believe that my due date is only a few days away. In a very short time, David will be born, and a new journey will begin. It is hard for me to imagine what this new journey will look like. I guess that part of me is grateful that God does not allow me to know His plans for tomorrow because I am not sure that I want to know. I rest solely on the promise that His plans for me are good (Jeremiah 29:11; Romans 8:28).

I do not feel ready to “let go and let God”, but I realize that the time has come for me to lay my Isaac (literally my David) on the altar. No one can do this for me – I must do it myself. Just as Abraham told Isaac on their journey to the altar, so I must remember, “The Lord will provide” (Genesis 22:8). I do not know what His provision will look like or how it will come. I only know that His promises are true, so I embrace them by faith. Tommy and I have not lacked God’s provision in any way along this journey, and we will not lack His provision when David is born. We have learned in very tangible ways over the past few months that "God's work done in God's way will never lack God's supplies." ~ Hudson Taylor

When we needed good medical insurance to cover the cost of visits to specialists, ultrasounds and genetic testing, God provided. When Tommy finished his seminary classes and needed a full-time job, God provided. When we deeply needed our brothers and sisters in Christ to cover us in prayer and to love us in word and deed, God provided. He has provided for us in so many ways, and His provision has consistently been more than enough.

During communion at church this past Sunday, I was reminded that Jesus not only provides our daily bread, He is our daily bread. He is not just a means to an end – He is the end. He is the bread of life and the living water. When He fed the five thousand with five loaves and two fish, the disciples filled twelve baskets with the pieces left over by those who had eaten – one basket for each disciple – a symbolic reminder to each one of them that Jesus provides and that His provision is more than enough (John 6:13).

As I come to lay my Isaac at the altar, I choose to embrace the truth that having Jesus by my side is enough – period. I realize now that the point of this journey has not been that Jesus will provide me with what I think will satisfy my thirst. The point is that Jesus Himself satisfies my thirst, and the water that He supplies in Himself is a spring of water welling up to eternal life (John 4:14). “And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent” (John 17:3).

I know that Jesus is intimately concerned with meeting my temporal physical and emotional needs. He has proven this to be true. How much more, then, is He concerned about meeting my eternal needs? He is using this light momentary affliction to prepare for me “an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” So, I fix my eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. “For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal”(II Corinthians 4:17-18).

To My Valentine

I’ve hijacked my valentine’s blog to honor her with a letter of encouragement, respect, and love.

Reference:
Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. Proverbs 31:25
Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also... Proverbs 31:28


Rachael,

I’ve thought about what I should say to you this Valentine’s Day and Proverbs 31:25 seemed to me an appropriate verse for this year. Your body has changed over the last 8 months and the new clothes you’ve had to wear seem to all be made with the same interwoven fabrics: strength and dignity. The weight of circumstances you have faced in the last few months would make grown men crumble to their knees, but you, my dear, are strong. The aura of dignity that goes before you has strengthened my faith and the faith of so many others. As we portray a certain image by the clothes we wear I have to say that your fashion is heavenly.

The future is something mysterious because we have no control over it and we do not know if tomorrow will bring joy or sorrow. The next few weeks will bring some of the most difficult circumstances of our lives but whether they are filled with joy or sorrow I see a smile on your face. This isn’t a shallow or pretend smile that just thinks everything is going to be alright. This isn’t a smile that is detached from the reality of suffering. Your smile is different. You smile at the uncertainty of the future that would press upon you fear, anxiety, and hopelessness. You smile at this because you are grounded in the steadfast love of our God.

Your strength, dignity, and hope in the steadfast love of God causes your family to rise up and call you blessed.

Love- Tommy, Benjamin, Caleb, and David

Instrument of Glory

On Friday we received the long-awaited results of my amniocentesis. The testing process took weeks to complete. Only two labs in the entire country have the capability of testing cells for the rare condition for which David was diagnosed. The results indicated that David has osteogenesis imperfecta, which is characterized by a mutation in collagen – a building block of bones. There at least 8 known types of OI, and apparently, David’s particular mutation is one-of-a kind. The laboratory said that they had never seen it before.

As I lay in bed Friday night, I began to reminisce about the journey through which God has brought us. It all started one fateful Saturday in June while Tommy was in Kenya. That morning I walked in and out of three drug stores before I got up the nerve to buy a pregnancy test. With the test in hand, I drove the kids to McDonald’s where I went to the bathroom and discovered the news that we were expecting our third baby. As Benjamin and Caleb blissfully played on the playground, I sat and stared at the wall in total shock.

Since Tommy was in a remote part of a third-world country, I had no way of reaching him other than by email. Admittedly, I was not initially happy about the unexpected news, so I decided to inform him by sending him a one-word email, “Congratulations.” It was three days before he got the message to which he replied, “Congratulations for what?” “Your new baby,” was my only response. Again, it was several days before I heard back from him. We were thousands of miles apart, unable to have a meaningful conversation about the information that would change our lives forever.

The rest of the story is history. When we went in for our routine, 20-week ultrasound in early October to find out if we were having a boy or a girl, we discovered that something was terribly wrong. Our baby boy had a lethal bone disease, and there was nothing that could be done about it. This discovery sent us into a whirlwind of emotion and confusion.

The further along that we get on this journey, the less sense it seems to make. What is God doing? It defies all human rationale. Why would God cause an unexpected pregnancy in order to create a baby with a rare genetic mutation – indeed so rare that it is is unique only to him? I know that we are all one-of-a-kind, but this is taking it to a whole new level. In the midst of all of my questions, I am left with only one clear answer: David was uniquely created by God to be an instrument for His glory.

When Tommy and I went before the elders of our church early Sunday morning for prayer in accordance with James chapter 5, we were reminded of how Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were instruments for God’s glory. When they refused to worship King Nebuchadnezzar’s gods, they were threatened with death by burning. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego said to the king, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter. If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up." Daniel 3:16-18.

The three men were bound and thrown into the fiery furnace, but the fire did not have any power over their bodies. The hair of their heads was not singed, their cloaks were not harmed, and no smell of fire came upon them. Nebuchadnezzar answered and said, "Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who has sent his angel and delivered his servants, who trusted in him, and set aside the king’s command, and yielded up their bodies rather than serve and worship any god except their own God.” Daniel 3:28. Hearing this story again reminded me of a childhood song entitled “God is Able.”

Therefore, Tommy and I come boldly before the throne of grace and proclaim with confidence, “The God whom we serve is able!” We stand resolutely on God’s Word during this time, for all of our hope is in Christ alone. The God who created all things can deliver David from the hand of death, so we stand firm, believing in faith, for all things are possible to him who believes. But, even if God chooses not to deliver David, we stand firm in the promise that He will fill our hearts with all joy and peace as we trust in Him, so that we may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13.

Whether through our suffering or through his healing, David Nathaniel is an instrument for God’s glory.

Child of Mine

This past week has been rough. I had two doctors’ appointments, and the primary focus of both appointments was to discuss the birth plan for baby David. I can hardly believe that my due date is less than 5 weeks away. When I think about what I was doing 5 weeks ago, it seems almost like yesterday. Time is so fleeting.

The birth process can be stressful for any baby, but I am told that it will be especially traumatic for little David, due to the fragility of his bones. I know that he must come out, sooner or later, but the thought of putting him through this painful process is difficult for me to bear, not to mention the fact that he will be forced to try to breathe on his own as soon as he is born. All that I can do is pray each and every day that God will put a hedge of protection around him and shield him from pain and suffering.

During my visit to the specialist, I had yet another ultrasound. I have had so many ultrasounds now that I have lost count. It is always good to see David again, but it is painful too, as each time I am callously reminded that the size of his ribcage is “well within the lethal range.” No matter how many times I hear this report, it never gets any easier. It is always a knife through my heart.

This time, the ultrasound technician was my angel. She spent the majority of the time taking 4-d pictures of David before doing the routine, rote measurements of his growth. He was sleeping peacefully during most of the process, with his chin resting sweetly on his little arms. He is a beautiful baby. I cannot tell you what a joy it was for me to see his precious face for the very first time. I will never forget that moment.

He has a little bit of hair, though not much yet. He probably will be mostly bald, just like his big brothers were when they were born. The picture was so detailed that I could even see his long eyelashes – amazing! At that moment, he was so real to me, and he looked so perfect. All that I could think was, “I just want to keep him. Oh please, Lord, let me keep him.” And in the midst of my pain and pleading, the Holy Spirit of God gently whispered to me, “My child, he is not yours to keep.”

In my head, I know that this is true. I knew it five years ago when Tom and I dedicated Benjamin to God, and I was reminded again three years later when we dedicated Caleb, but I must say that knowing this in my head is very different than understanding it in my heart. A couple of months back, a close friend asked me what was at stake in my decision to “put myself out there” instead of going into my shell of self-pity, which is my natural tendency. I did not have to think long about my answer. By far, the hardest part of this journey has been to release my children to God.

I have realized, now more than ever before, that I do not control the wellbeing of my children, as much as I would like to think that I do. I can try to protect them from physical harm, keep them away from dangerous people, take care of their health, etc., but ultimately their wellbeing is out of my hands. As I first processed the news of David’s condition 15 weeks ago, I was filled with fear at the thought that if God would choose to take David, then what would stop Him from taking Benjamin or Caleb?

What about Job? Job was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil, and God took all of his children. Why should I be any different? I know that most of these thoughts were fear-based, driven by an attack from the enemy, yet I still had to grapple with the truth that my children belonged to God, not to me, and as such, they were in His hands. So, I was faced with two primary questions. Can God be trusted, and will He be good to me and Tom and to our children? The answer to both questions, of course, is yes, but once again, knowing something in my head is quite different than understanding and believing it in my heart.

In His great grace and patience, I believe that God has grown me in this process, though I am far from perfect in my understanding and application of His control over my life and His goodness in it. It is a daily battle of my independence vs. God’s sovereignty and goodness. I pray that He will help me to trust Him more, as I continue to plead with Him each and every day for David’s healing.

It is so difficult for me to live in total dependence upon God. In fact, apart from his mercy and grace, it is impossible. I want to figure out His plan and then rely on my own strength to walk through it. I want to know what He is doing. If He is going to choose to heal David, then I can breathe a huge sigh of relief and thank Him for his miraculous intervention. If not, then I can start to “cope” with the reality that I must let David go and somehow learn to trust in God's goodness in the midst of my suffering. But being in limbo and living in the unknown is so hard.

I must continually “renew my mind.” I must be present today and not try to live out tomorrow. I cannot muster up the strength to cope with tomorrow’s problems today because I am only promised the grace that I need to make it through today. In a letter written by Corrie Ten Boom, she recalls the following story from her childhood:

When I was a little girl…, I went to my father and said, “Daddy, I am afraid that I will never be strong enough to be a martyr for Jesus Christ.” “Tell me,” said Father, “When you take a train trip to Amsterdam, when do I give you the money for the ticket? Three weeks before?” “No, Daddy, you give me the money for the ticket just before we get on the train.” “That is right,” my father said, “and so it is with God’s strength. Our Father in Heaven knows when you will need the strength to be a martyr for Jesus Christ. He will supply all you need – just in time. “

And so I am relying on my Heavenly Father to give me my train ticket each day. I do not know which train I am scheduled to board, but I know that He will give me the ticket to ride it – just in time.

The Miracle of Faith

Recently, God has been teaching me about faith. Specifically, God has been speaking to my heart about the faith of Abraham. I have always believed that God is able to do exceedingly, abundantly above all that we could ask or imagine, and deep in my heart, I hoped that He would do just that. I secretly hoped that God would "surprise" me by healing David, but I was not about to ask Him to do it. Simply believing that God was able seemed to be enough.

Over the past couple of weeks, the Spirit of God has gently shown me that my believing that He is able and my hoping that He might surprise me by doing something miraculous is not enough. For some reason, God is calling me and Tom to ask Him to miraculously heal David. It may sound silly, but for me, this is a huge step of faith. Why must I ask Him? Isn't God able to do whatever He pleases? What difference does it make if I ask?

I think that part of my unwillingness to ask God for a miracle was due to my unwillingness to be disappointed in God. If I put myself out there and ask for the impossible, what happens if God says no? I can believe in God’s goodness and accept the prospect that He may ordain our son’s life to be too short without understanding why, but I think that asking God for the impossible may stretch my ability to believe in God's goodness further than it ever has ever been stretched before.

I do not pretend to understand all that God is doing, but I know that I must obey. When God promised Abraham that he would become the father of many nations, Abraham believed and obeyed what God told him to do. God said, "Your descendants will be as numerous as the stars," even though such a promise seemed impossible! And Abraham's faith did not weaken even though he knew that he was too old to be a father and that Sarah, his wife, had never been able to bear children. Romans 4:18-19.

Abraham was absolutely convinced that God was able to do anything He promised. It was by faith that Abraham offered Isaac as a sacrifice when God was testing him. Abraham was ready to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, though God had promised him, "Isaac is the son through whom your descendants will be counted." Genesis 21:12. Abraham believed God who brings the dead back to life and who brings into existence what didn't exist before. Romans 4:17.

So, by faith, Tom and I are asking God to heal David "for nothing is impossible with God." Luke 1:37. I must be honest - this is very difficult for me. I want to understand it, to rationalize it and to somehow explain it to myself and others. I do not usually ask for things unless I am relatively certain that I will get them. I do not consider myself to be a miracle-prayer. Right or wrong, this is a big stretch for me.

But amidst all of my questions, I am certain of one thing: my failure to ask God for David's healing would be disobedience. While I do not understand why, I know without a doubt that He is telling me to ask. So, Tom and I are asking God to do something miraculous. We are asking our great God to bring healing to David's bones, to cause his bones to grow and to develop his lungs so that he is able to breathe on his own. We are asking God for the "impossible."

We are not asking because we are certain of the answer. We are asking because we trust our Father who is telling us to ask. We are asking for the miracle of faith.

The Gift of Hope

Most people think of hiccups as an annoyance. To me, hiccups are a sign of life and hope.

Babies in utero breathe and swallow amniotic fluid. This is part of normal development. For weeks, the doctors have told me that David could stop swallowing fluid at any time because his small chest may restrict him from doing so. If he stops swallowing fluid, then excess fluid will build up, which will likely result in his early birth.

When David hiccups, I am reassured that he is still swallowing fluid. The longer that he continues to swallow fluid, the longer that I can carry him! Sometimes, several days go by without my noticing any hiccups, and I start to worry that he may no longer be swallowing. Then, out of the blue, he starts hiccuping again, and I thank God that He has given us more time together.

Every time that I see another ultrasound, I am reminded again that David’s chest is extremely small, restricting the development of his lungs. The irony of it all is that he is completely viable in my womb because I am able to supply him with all of the oxygen that he needs. Theoretically, he could live inside of me indefinitely, and I sometimes wish that this were possible.

My emotions have ranged greatly during the past 12 weeks. At the beginning, I wanted all of this to end as quickly as possible. Then, as time passed, I slowly began to appreciate the time that God has given me to carry David, though it may be short. Many well-meaning people have told me that they are “praying for a miracle,” and I usually respond that the “miracle” may not be physical healing. So far, I have not seen any evidence of physical healing.

It may sound strange, but for a while I was not even open to the possibility of David’s physical healing. The thought of his death was painfully difficult to bear, but somehow accepting this reality was more bearable than hoping for a physical miracle. I guess that I was afraid of disappointment. However, I am reminded that “hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.” Romans 5:5.

I can now say that the Holy Spirit of God has granted me the ability to hope, not necessarily in a miraculous healing for David, but the ability to open my heart to whatever God wants to do in this situation. Certainly, He is able to miraculously heal David, and I should not dismiss this possibility in order to protect myself from disappointment. You see, my Father has shown me that I can trust Him with my heart because He will not disappoint.

My Father knows how fragile my heart is, so I do not have to be afraid of trusting Him with it. I can hope for miracles, knowing that My God is able. He is able to change David’s prognosis by simply speaking the word. Just as He spoke all of creation into being, He can speak life into this precious child.

This is not a “name it and claim it” theology whereby one can attain miracles by having “enough” faith. I believe that true faith is quite opposite to a “name it and claim it” theology. True faith is to believe in God’s goodness, His plan and His provision no matter how dim the outlook may seem. True faith is to walk by faith and not by sight. True faith believes in God’s ability to redeem any situation, for “without faith it is impossible to please Him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who seek Him.” Hebrews 11:6.

So, by the grace of God, I will continue to hope in Him each day, and I will cherish every hiccup knowing that it is a gift from God.

A Lifetime of Memories

Christmas was bittersweet this year. It was sweet to be at home with the boys and to see their expressions on Christmas morning. Caleb has been singing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" for a few weeks now. I am not sure whether or not he made the connection on Christmas morning that Santa had come to town, but it was a joy to hear him sing. The boys both told me that their favorite gift was a $1 jump rope in their stockings -- no surprise. It is the little things in life that bring the most joy.

David had a stocking and a few other small items under the tree. Benjamin opened David's presents for him, and we enjoyed the time together. Tommy said that he had always wanted to have three little boys, and for this one Christmas his wish came true. All three of our little boys were present with us to celebrate Christmas day. It was a day that I will never forget.

Over the past week, a deep sadness has slowly crept over me, growing a bit stronger with each passing day. The phrase "Happy New Year" is not one that I can bring myself to say this year. The year 2010 does not represent happiness to me. The clock is ticking, and our time with David is growing shorter each day. It doesn't seem fair. Sometimes, I find myself throwing temper tantrums with God. "Why, Lord? Why me? Why this child?"

Many things do not make sense to me. Benjamin loves babies. He loves to hold his cousin Max, and he talks to him so sweetly. Whenever we see a baby, Benjamin gets down on his knees to talk to the baby. "Of all of the brothers in the world, why Lord, are you taking away Benjamin's baby brother?" Even my little bulldozer Caleb has a special place in his heart for "bebes." He loves to talk to them and to touch them. Sometimes, he tries to poke out Max's eyes, but I can honestly say that it is out of love. Benjamin and Caleb have an exceptional love for babies, so why must their baby brother be taken from them?

There are many things that I want to teach David and so many moments that I want to share with him ... his first smile, his first word, his first step. I will never get to potty-train him or teach him how to dress himself. Instead, I am forced to make a lifetime of memories with him in a few short months, and when it is all said and done, my arms will be empty with no baby to rock to sleep at night. Right now, these thoughts are almost too difficult for me to bear. At times, it is hard to breathe with the heavy weight that is bearing down on me.

We are making "arrangements" for David's burial and memorial service now in order to alleviate some of the stress later. There is a beautiful cemetery near my parents' home where we will probably lay our precious David to rest. Tommy and I are going to visit it sometime this weekend. When Tommy first called to inquire about their services, the man who answered the phone was the same person who sold us our home almost 8 years ago. I felt a certain peace knowing that we had a connection with the person who would walk us through this difficult process.

It is a horrible feeling to plan for the death of a child who is still squirming and hiccuping inside of me. It feels like a bad dream, and sometimes I just wish that I could wake up and realize that it isn't really happening. We desperately need your prayers as we walk through the next few months. Please pray that the grief will not overwhelm us, but instead that the peace of God that passes all understanding will rule our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Pray that we will enjoy a lifetime of memories in 2010.