This One’s My Favorite…

I wrote this on Good Friday last year. It isn’t new, but it’s my favorite story. It not only reminds me that God keeps His promises, He is also eager to win over our hearts. Those struggling with infertility are dear to my heart. I have that scar too. Be encouraged. Be hopeful. God is faithful.

On this Good Friday, I didn’t sleep in. Babies don’t know about holidays. So I lay in bed staring with wonder into the eyes of my miracle. I pondered the scripture Isaiah 53:5 and remember the sacrifice of Jesus and that by his wounds we are healed. I lock eyes with my son and we smile to say “I love you.”. I offer my hand to him and he grips my finger with his soft dimpled hand. I watch as he kicks. I swoon as he yawns. I breath him in… Perfect flesh formed inspite of my imperfect faith. It was only a smidge really. It was truly no more than a mustard seed when she asked me, a year ago today, “Can I pray for you?” I had been shopping with my dear friend Emily and as the evening grew later she prepared to leave, but she lingered. I could tell she had something to say but wasn’t sure that she should. Finally, she said it: “I feel like I’m supposed to pray for you. I know I’m younger than you and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but well… I feel like if I pray for you to get pregnant, you’ll just get pregnant!” I of course told her she was being silly. Who cares that she was younger? I reminded her that she could always pray for me. But silently, I was worried. I didn’t want her to be disappointed. Billy and I had been wanting a baby for a long time. Natural or adopted. But life had hurled set back after set back and bad report after bad report. Many had prayed. Many were believing. Why would this time be different? But there she stood. Sweet, faithful Emily. Ready to obey the Lord. Ready to believe in His faithfulness. And there I stood. A little bit bitter. A little bit over it. And a little bit sad. But I had a little bit of faith, about a mustard seed’s worth, and so we stood there in my dining room and she asked the Lord to heal me and to open my womb and give us a baby. And I allowed the faith I had left to collide with hers… And now, a year from that day, on Good Friday, I look upon my miracle and know that by His wounds we are surely healed and that with His death on the cross came resurrecting life… In my case, brand new life!

A Song to Say

A Song to Say
I come from a musical family… A very talented, musical family. My dad can play almost any instrument placed in front of him. My mom could always match and name pitches she heard in everyday life. My step mom and sisters have amazing voices as does my brother. I have cousins who are professional musicians and my parents and aunts traveled in a Christian singing group before I was born. I grew up singing in a microphone in front of churches… And in cars and in high school choirs and even a college chorus. I can carry a tune. I can (usually) find the harmony. I enjoy singing, and have a decent but not even close to stunning voice. I gave up the microphone singing somewhere in my 20s for different reasons. Mostly because, my number one reason for singing has always been to please the Lord. To make a joyful noise if you will. I grew weary of trying to sing it perfectly and didn’t want to focus on the audience of many but rather the audience of One. And if I’m being truthful, I’m not very talented. I’m not going to scare anyone off but I’m not going to lure anyone in either. So now, I sing for Jesus… And my son Oliver. They both seem to thoroughly enjoy my songs both made up and remembered. In fact, Oliver already LOVES to sing! As a child, I honestly dreamed of singing as a profession, but I no longer “sing” for anyone outside of those two… I have found however, that I never really stopped singing at all except now my song sounds less like a melody and more like a story. We all have a song. Some of us sing it and some of us say it. It is our testimony. Our lives lived before God and before people. So, this is my song, my attempt at sharing with others what He has shown me. I know nothing about blogging… But I know a lot about obedience. This is me, being obedient and “saying” my song. May it be joyful. May it be true. May it be a light. May it bring peace and understanding… Even if only to myself. “This is my story, this is my song…”