Fifteen Years

Another Mother's Day lies before us. I remember posting last year's tribute to my mom - an excerpt from my book - as if it were just the other day. I'm so thankful for a mom who prays and serves above and beyond the norm. Hers has not been an easy or common road to traverse, but she continues to look ahead and take that next step of faith beside her husband, my dad. 

Today I share a precious portrait of myself holding my newborn son. He was an answer to prayer. At approximately six months of "trying" for a baby, I broke down and wept at the sheer thought that I had somehow entered the mysterious and most unfortunate category of women labeled "infertile." 

Those were my feelings at the time, and they felt piercing. I had been raised from my youth to trust the Lord and his plan for my life. I knew He was still good and abandoning my faith wasn't a consideration. Despair arose at times, along with wrestling in prayer, trying to make my dreams come true because that's what I desperately wanted. And everything in Scripture reminded me it was a good thing to want children. Infertility didn't make any sense to me; being a mother and parent did. After another eleven months, "in due time" or "the appointed time" my husband and I both cried at the discovery that I was, at last, pregnant. 

I think the biggest lesson I learned from those days was that it meant everything to stay tethered to the Rock of my salvation. I had to wait for my life partner too several years prior. My faith shook at the seeming delay. But Jesus was my Savior and Creator, and that meant He knew all things deep inside me as well as all the exterior circumstances. 

Sometimes we go through a season of wrestling with the conflict or crisis we face, and He understands, even allowing that for our good. It doesn't feel right; all kinds of emotions seethe, boil, and spill over, as much as we would rather they not. Like Jacob, holding on with a steel grip, through gritted teeth and streaming tears, emphasizing the cry of our hearts: "I will not let thee go, except thou bless me." (Genesis 32:24-26) 

Fifteen years have passed since the time of that original photograph. I have been a thankful mother, but the Lord has gently reminded me so many times that my identity lies far deeper than the coveted and blessed title of "Mom." It's like a fractional piece of me, a (large and treasured) part of a whole, that fits into what God has had for me to know him more and more. 

"For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels (aka jars of clay), that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." 2 Cor. 4:6-7