Of course there's more to this story...
I didn't just wake up one day pregnant. Like everything else in my life, it was a process riddled with honesty and stubborness and a sincere desire to know that a decision as paramount as bringing a life into this broken world was more than just a whim. Or practical next step. Or selfish desire. Or attempt at filling some kind of void in my heart.
I didn't want to have a baby just to have a baby.
I didn't want to have a baby just to give myself something more meaningful to do with my days.
I didn't want to have a baby until we paid off our student loans, at least in part.
I didn't want to have a baby, unless I really, sincerely, desperatelywanted to have a baby...
So on this particular issue, I plugged my ears and closed my eyes and pretended not to hear. Or to state it plainly, we never inquired of the Lord on the issue. Ever.
So what did God do??
Much like Gomer in the book of Hosea, He drew me away, He stripped me bare. Of everything comfortable. When we're stripped of all our trappings, all the things we put hope and confidence in, all the things we use to distract ourselves... He can finally get our attention.
Just about the time I started to believe the stripping process was over, just about the time I settled into the most wonderful season of artistry... A Voice like none other began to whisper from the heavens.
And I heard it, clearly. It stopped me dead in my tracks.
Immediately I panicked. I balked. I dug my heels in hard.
The Voice grew louder.
I got angry. And decidedly offeneded. And defensive.
And it got louder, and louder, and louder. Like the sound of rushing waters, it seemed to come at me from every possible direction at once until I felt like I'd be crushed beneath the weight of it. And then in an instant, in a single distinct moment just when I felt my lungs filling with water, that certainly I was being forced into something I did not want... The noise ceased. A moment of silence. And I distinctly heard the most gentle, quiet, sweet whisper, "This, my daughter, is not about you."
For the very first time in my entire 29 years, I understood. This was not about me. It was about Him. Like the sun brilliantly breaking the horizon, it dawned on me. This was about the plan and purpose of God and being a part of something bigger than myself.
I melted. I sobbed until I could sob no more. I repented, for years of callousness and selfishness and disobedience. And I asked Him to change my heart, enlighten my mind, give me ears to hear and a heart to receive.
Holy revelation grants you new eyes and ears, changes your mind, breaks your will if necessary. I sat in my kitchen, broken open, the Light of truth expelling the lies I'd believed for so long. Josh stood across from me leaned against the counter. Our eyes met in moment of life changing realization, and we both began to weep. He came and wrapped his arms around me, and we cried, togeter, in a sacred moment of humble revelation, our hearts entirely transformed. It truly happened in that specific moment.
And then suddenly, beautifully, miraculously,
I wanted a baby.
I wantedthis baby, this baby that God wanted first.
I wanted to carry a tiny life in my womb and embrace the charge to raise him up righteously.
I wanted... to be a mother.
After almost a decade of marriage, almost a decade of resisting the holy call to parent, this decision alone was it's own little miracle. And I knew that because He alone was directing my heart, there was no need to concern myself with the practicalities. Provision was certain. Timing was impeccable. I was simply to be obedient, and rest.
By definition, when used as a verb 'to parent' means to author, to acutalize, to bring into being, bring into existence, compose, conceive, to make, to give birth to, to give life to, to create.
Oh the irony of my 'Season of Artistry'...
As I had obediently moved from creative project to creative project, I had no idea that God was using it to coax me into the creating of something far surpassing books and blogs and photos. He was calling me to partner with Him in creating a life, a life infused at conception with destiny and purpose, anointed and called, set apart for these final hours in the earth. Father, forgive me.
It isn't about me. It was never about me. And every time I believe the lie that it is, I miss out on God's richest, most generous gifts.
To be a mother, is a holy calling. To be a mother, is to experience life at it's fullest. To be a mother, is to embrace the divine purpose for which a woman is created. It's one of the greatest gifts she can experience this side of heaven.
But of course, though miraculous in its own right, a change of heart wasn't the end of it. God had still other issues to address in us before entrusting this tiny soul to our care. If I thought this breakthrough was enough to now move the hand of God, I was mistaken...
Part 3 coming soon...
