choosing moments

It was tough a season or two ago when it seemed that man was putting to death one of God’s dreams. This was painful to watch and harder to understand. It was during this time the Lord spoke to me through an experience from my past.

While pregnant with my daughter I was given the tender privilege of accepting another’s new born baby boy into my home. It was clearly explained and painfully heard that I would never be able to keep this boy – this new born simply needed arms and love to nurture him through the time until a permanent home was readied. This babe’s mother had conceived him, birthed him, named him, loved him enough to realize she simply could not care for him and so early one morning I was presented with this little one day old bundle – a beautiful bundle of life, all dressed in blue. Immediately he was in my arms, he entered deep into my heart. I rested this little one in the crib that had been prepared for my yet to be born babe. His language was easy to learn. His needs were easy to fill. His care was so natural. Soon he opened his eyes but even with his eyes closed, he was grabbing onto my finger and holding tight. I completely forgot that he was not to be with me forever, that I would never see his first step, never hear his first words. I just loved him and loved him deeper every moment. The feel of his face nuzzling my neck, his after bath freshness, his full tummy burp – all became part of my life. Around the three month anniversary of his arrival suddenly the life of my yet to be born baby was at risk. I was told I could not continue to care for the one who was already born without compromising the life of the one waiting to be born. I could not continue to hold both the one in my arms and the one in my womb. I had to make a choice. Both babies were loved. Both babies were wanted. And yet I had to choose. Agonizingly I chose to give up the one already born to save the one not yet born. Even knowing he would have a new safe permanent forever home the grief remains with me to this day. It is a strange grief – the joy, the treasure and the beauty of the life of my safely born daughter is immense, beyond words really – and yet still all these years I wonder about my momentary baby boy, what has become of him, is he happy, is he well, is he loved, is he loving?

Sometimes we are asked to give up something that has been born for something not yet born – something tangible for something not yet seen – the known for the unknown - our own hopes and dreams for another's. I find myself in that season again.

And it is no easier this time – hour after hour the choice silently screams – grief waits – but I can only consider the One who is asking me to make this choice and I must trust that there will be much beauty, much joy, much comfort in that which is not yet born. And because it is He who asks, I will choose again.