I sit sideways in the leather recliner in a dim room. Monitors and cords hug you in my belly as I listen to the pulse of a machine get loud and fade with each turn you make.
It sounds like a lullaby to listen to as I close my eyes. I pray for you. Lord, keep him safe. You promise you will never leave him.
What seemed like just moments earlier, a regular check up — 33 and 1/2 weeks. Regular wait time, regular chit chat.
When she found your heartbeat, she said she wanted to listen longer, and my heart seemed to stop for a moment.
What came next was procedural — moving from this room to that room, to this chair where I sit now and wait.
*I trust you, Lord*
I am still and listen to a song on the monitor that only He could compose.
And the nurse comes back in with a smile.
He sounds good!!
Yes, he does. A good, good Father!! And I say — Praise the Lord!! Again and again. Praise the Lord!!
Thank you, Father, for already using this little boy to show me how big you are.
Thank you for using him to have me trust and surrender each moment to you. I surrender. I will stop, and I will surrender.
The reality is anything could happen. At anytime to anyone. We are looking for assurance. I have it.
There is no guarantee, but there is always assurance.
“Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1
The car ride home was a different kind of drive. Hugging my husband and my sons and having them hug baby today — all are different kinds of hugs. All precious and treasured and appreciated with a different, even greater sense of awe and love.
There is no fear in love. And today again I will say — We will trust you, Lord. Always.