I know It's been a long time since I've blogged. A very long time. There's a wonderful reason for that fact.
But let me start at the beginning of my story. I ask you to refer back to June, when I had written about the scary surgery and possibility of my (then) three year old son having lymphoma, and the wonderful answer to prayer when it was revealed that he simply had some excessively overactive lymph nodes and was pronounced healthy.
Since that traumatic experience, I have entered into a deeper level of relationship with my Savior. I didn't notice it at first, but as the days and weeks passed, I started to notice a trend whenever something tempted me to worry over my children or anything else. When some trial thought to get the best of my emotions or will. God was speaking. Not a booming voice from the heavens shouting "thees" and "thous," but a loving, tender voice whispering from the pages of my Bible. I suppose the voice has always spoken to me. But it takes the scary moments of life when you are desperate to hear it to help you learn to recognize it.
God directed me to the Psalms at the beginning of the summer and has wisely kept me there until I finished it two days ago. From Psalm 56 the Lord gave me precious truth for my little boy to memorize and repeat as he headed into surgery: "When I am afraid I will trust in You, in God whose Word I praise. In God I trust; I will not be afraid." Little did he know his mommy was silently repeating it with tears streaming down her face as he was wheeled away.
The day before I received the greatest relief of my life - the results of Noah's biopsy, God said from Psalm 41: The Lord will sustain him on his sickbed, and restore him from his bed of illness." I knew then. I knew that everything was going to be alright. I felt as if I'd crossed a mountain, but I knew that the journey was drawing to a conclusion.
But God wasn't finished with us yet. He continued to speak words of love and hope to my heart through the Psalms throughout the next month. And quite unexpectedly, a familiar thought occured to me. It's occured to me three other times in my life. God was letting me know that he was giving us a blessing. I think of it almost as a "reward" for allowing him to show his faithfulness to us by entrusting him with the life of our son. God was planning to send us another child.
Well, I promptly told my husband the good news. He was less than convinced. But neither of us were in any sort of hurry to work it out - getting pregnant is something that's required a lot of time and prayer to accomplish for me.
God didn't wait this time.
On the morning of August 20, I woke early, planning to take a test because of the suspicious symptoms and telltale feeling I was having. I read Psalms 103:
Praise the Lord Oh my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits - who forgives all your sins, and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.... The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love... he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him."
I didn't really need to take the test to know that it would be positive.
All this to say, that every time I look into the healthy, vibrant blue eyes of my four year old son, and next spring when I lay eyes on this little miracle God is forming within me, I will remember the summer that God drew close to me, and showed me his nature, and let me feel his love.
Some use scientific research, some use theological apologetics to herald the existence of the Creator God. I don't need it. I know he's not only real, but exactly who he says he is. You can know too, for absolute certainty. Step out on faith. Trust him regardless of what the circumstance or your feelings tell you. Persevere, and he will begin to reveal himself to you. He will remind you of a sacrifice on a cross, an empty grave, your sins atoned for, and then point to every time in your life that he reached his larger-than-the-universe hands toward you, and whispered so gently in your ear....
I love you. You are mine. I will always take care of you.
