More Than Merely Treading Water

My husband and older daughter, who is nearing seven, were in the pool the other day, and I was watching from the sidelines. She is learning to swim little by little and it's her Daddy who is doing all the teaching. He never sits her down and says "Now Phoebe, we are going to have a swim lesson." He plays with her, encourages her, and guides her.

I watched her climb out of the pool and stand at the side, readying herself to jump into her father's open arms. She was the tiniest bit fearful but knew he would catch her. "Daddy, you stand right there." She jumped and I watched him inch back so she would swim just a little further than she believed she could. This went on all day, until suddenly she was swimming the width of the pool. The little girl who thought she could swim a few feet had suddenly conquered the pool. It was beautiful to watch. She beamed with a new found confidence. She knew that she had been forever changed and she really could swim.

My journey with Eden has been much like this. I never would have imagined on March 10th that I would be able to, not only float out here in this sea of blind faith... but that I would be able to swim. I can do this because I trust my Heavenly Father not to let me drown. I may not understand the point of him stretching my faith like He has, but I know when I reach the other side of this ocean His plan will be perfect.

Eden's heartbeat

My daughter came with me to my last midwife appointment. She used her new camera to record her sister's heartbeat. When I hear this I have hope for the life inside of me.

Family Ties

Today was a very nice day. Lunch with my bible study ladies, here at the house, we were celebrating a birthday and also blessing my home.

We've been here for less than 4 months and we've had issue after issue... mostly small and annoying but still. I had wanted to anoint the house with oil but never did in all the chaos...

As a group of women, some old enough to be my mother or grandmother...some even a bit older, walked through each room of my house...we laughed and joked...and prayed. As the blessings were spoken over a kitchen full of conversation, kids rooms filled with peace, and even a bedroom filled with love, I was struck by the amazing provision of these ladies.

Each one carries her own baggage and hurts, but each was here to bless a transplant from another country, or me, a mother in the midst of her greatest struggle. It is truly a gift from God to be blessed in such a way. And once again they spoke life over Eden...even words of joy over my older daughters room, that she be able to share her room with her sister.

I was reminded of the time in my life before I found God or accepted His gift of perfect love through His son, Jesus. I used to feel terribly lonely and empty. I had good parents and I had a handful of friends, but I always wondered if there was anyone to whom I truly mattered. I fantasised about becoming ill and being hospitalized, wondering if anyone would come to see me. I have said before, that God filled that void instantly on the day I allowed myself to see Him, and that is true. But today, and all along this journey, I am filled to overflowing.

Being a part of the family of God is so much more than doctrine or rules. It is to belong in a way never even fathomed before. It is to be fully embraced, loved, protected, and natured. It is to be filled so much that you have nothing else to do but give some away.

We may not always get it right, but this family is so beautiful.

I have also been blessed by friends from afar, I recieved a quilt and a box of cards and notes from women all over the country and into Canada yesterday. It touches me to see that, no matter what, Eden has touched lives already.

Forever Changed

Sometimes I let this blog go a week or two because I'm not really sure what to say. The particulars are all still the same. And I can't really update you about Eden much because she's hidden away from view... for all I know she's healed already.

So here's where I am at this week, I'm trying to figure out how to plan for what to *do* after she's born, should she not be healed. It's a practicality I can't quite wrap my brain around. Neither Steven or I feel compelled to have a service or bury her body, But that leave a big question on what to do with her remains. I don't want her just "disposed" of, but I really can't imagine what to do. And there is an issue of cost, which maybe shouldn't be a factor here but is. I think I need to really start looking into this, but I ask you "How do I hope for a miracle, believe for a miracle, and investigate ways to dispose of my baby all at the same time?" Even now, I'm typing that out and she is doing the thing where a foot or butt bushes against my stomach and makes it take a weird shape... how do I plan for this all to end?

In many ways I can't fathom that there could be anything wrong with this little one inside me. She is so obviously *alive* right now, her heartbeat is strong. Her movements are regular and frequent. She is growing and making me physically uncomfortable and exhausted. How can she not be "just fine"?

I have had reason to talk to a few people lately about the impact of Eden on my relationship with God. I realized that I have had the wonderful opportunity to see Gods love poured out in a new and different way. I have had a chance to live "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" (Matt 5:4) I have hurt more than I even knew was possible and been wrapped in love like I can't describe. I have understood what it is to touch the heart of God and have His heart break for his child.

I was telling Steven yesterday, that I feel weird because I was operating in such a fevered pitch with Jesus, and now this has all become so everyday. It's so much more a part of my every moment reality. I wondered was I getting lazy? As we talked I realized that I am now, forever changed. It's not that I've gotten lazy it's that I've gone from one point to another. That my faith has been forever changed. And I am grateful for that change.

This is from an email I received just 10 days after the diagnosis:

"Eden Rebekah what a powerful name- "delight" and "captivating beautiful" I was just thinking of the story of Issac and Rebekah in Gen. 24 and in verses 55-60 Rebekah agrees (and is willing) to go with Abraham's servant to A PLACE SHE HAD NEVER BEEN. And the Lord spoke to me that Eden is taking you to a place where you have never been with in the Lord. He will go with you to that place and though it may be a hard place it has changed you forever. You will never be the same again and your faith level will never be the same again"

Just one of the many words of faith I have received for this little blessing.

A special day

Today is my 14th wedding anniversary. Recently at another wedding I was listening to the vows and thinking about how much Steven and I have been through, and how much we have changed over these 14 years. We were just kids when we walked down that aisle and made promises to each other and to God.

I am grateful everyday that he is my husband and that he is the father of our four children. As Eden's daddy, he is torn between feeling like he can't protect her and what he needs to do to care for me and the other three on this journey. He handles each new hurdle with love that comforts me, even when he feels he isn't. I am grateful that God put us together so long ago...that we have grown together in age, faith, and maturity.

Eden continues to wiggle, kick, roll, and squirm almost constantly. And I am reminded that, whatever the outcome, there is a little tiny life inside of me. The doctors can say whatever they will but, at this moment in time, Eden *is* alive and she has a special designation from God. She has already stirred the faith of many.

In bible study we have been going over Psalm 23. And I am reminded constantly that while I walk through this valley that it is only a "shadow of death" that passes over us. And that I needn't fear because God is with me...with the big kids...with my nearly two year old...with my husband. My God is a good God who loves and cares for me. Who desires only the best for me. Though I can not always understand what He is doing, I trust that He has only my best, and the best of those who love Him, in His heart and Mind.

Monday Musings

I have written, rewritten, erased, started over again, this blog about 4 times already. My thoughts are so jumbled.

I start out telling of my struggles with the constant everyday of carrying Eden, I talk about feeling her first kick during her ultrasound, I start to answer questions I've been asked a lot lately... but it all sounds so flat.

The reality is, this is getting really hard. Aside from everything else, I am getting really pregnant. I am exhausted and have a hard time even finishing up my daily chores. Folding the laundry, putting it away, doing the dishes, and vacuuming puts me out for a day and a half... lets not forget it's summer and all three kids need a mommy. Also included in the 6 month pregnant package are some pretty emotional days. Fighting to install a water filter for two days reduced me to tears more than once.

It's also a long journey. I wish I could know, right now, that everything was going to be okay. That I was bringing my baby home in October and we'd all live happily ever after. But that is not my path... I don't get to sprint. It's a marathon.

My husband is having a hard time not knowing how to be the Protector of his family and how to struggle through his own emotions. He needs your prayers right now, he needs the strength of all of you to help hold him up.

First instinct and words of faith

I replay a lot of the stuff that happened at that first ultrasound. I replay what was said to me. The look on my friend's face as she sat and listened. The tone of voice that the technician used. The smells... all of it. But just recently I've been remembering that first split second after she told me. My first and immediate reaction that hadn't heard figures or facts yet, the moment just a fraction of a moment before my head started swimming...

What I thought in that moment was "Well, I guess God will have to fix it. "( I didn't yet know she was a she.)

This moment comforts me. It was here that my faith spilled out, not yet crowded by logic or emotion. Just faith. I wish I could say it was the whispered voice of God reassuring me, but of that I'm not sure.

I thank everyone who is following this journey. Every prayer is felt here...

Ordinary Pregnant Women

Last night I was having a lot of back pain and heartburn and what not. Just generally feeling crummy... And I was struck by how different things are than with an ordinary pregnancy. In the past, when I have felt icky while being pregnant some sort of motherly instict kicks in and the idea that I need to take it easy and rest becomes primary...

But now, I feel pain and wonder "Is this the begining of the end of my time with Eden?" and I think how that would be sad but that I knew this was a possibility...and then I wonder "Do I sit and rest, or do I go on as normal and let things happen?"

As it is yesterday was just the culmination of a few long weeks and a very long and exhausting weekend, Eden is still wiggling, rolling, and kicking. I am still very much pregnant.

I have had a rough week emotionally, I mean I've been okay, but I've worried more about the what-ifs than in the weeks preceding. I was asked if I felt I knew she would really be okay and I am starting to feel a little shakey about if she will or not... it's hard to carry around this hope and faith in her healing everyday. I want so baddly to stand firmly in the knowledge that she is being knit together even now... but some days it's the best I can do to sit weakly.

The sun was shining today

Had my first OB appointment since the diagnosis today. It was kind of weird in that it wasn't all that weird. I did all the typical stuff - weight, blood pressure, etc. Just like any regular old pregnant woman. Because I am, in fact, a regular old pregnant woman. But not really... Most regular pregnant women are worrying about things like stretch marks, exhaustion, and frequent potty breaks. Me, I'm just sort of existing in this limbo world. Waiting on my miracle but uncertain everyday...

I talked a lot to my Dr about my emotional well being, she wondered what kind of support I had and was very pleased to hear me speak of all of my church family that was rallying around me. I told her Eden's name and she made a note in my chart. The care with which she treats me is truly remarkable. I don't think she'd make this choice but encourages me to truly enjoy and celebrate every moment I have with Eden. (Hearing her referred to by her name is very comforting to me.)

We listened to her very strong heartbeat. Beating away as if nothing was amiss. The Dr confirmed that, yes, those were definitely hiccups that I was feeling...

Eden is moving all the time. Not just the hiccups but I feel her rolling and kicking almost constantly, It is both wonderful and a little heartbreaking. While I choose to believe she will be born whole, part of me knows she may not be and it pains me to think this might be all I have of her. I love her, yet I may never know her in *this* life. It's a very weird place to live.

I told my Dr I had hope in a very Big God and that I still thought Eden could be born whole and healthy. I think this bothered the Dr. and I understand why. Science has *no* room at all for this possibility.Two ultrasounds and a blood test are pretty clear.

Ironically I left today feeling even more sure God was going to do the amazing with Eden. The sun was shinning and I knew He was with me.

All in all today was a very good day to be Eden's mommy.

Not so strong

Ever since I put up this blog, and even just before, I have had people saying really wonderful things about my grace and strength... I am touched as those things are merely God showing Himself. Today I want to throw myself on the floor like my not quite two year old and just cry and throw a tantrum.

I knew when we decided to give God full reign over the Eden there could, potentially be a full 5 months of waiting and uncertainty... I wondered to some friends when or if the day would come that all the peace would crumble... I still have peace but today is not so bright as a few that have passed.

If you had asked me even 4 days ago I'd have told you I felt really good, emotionally and physically. That I fully expected a miracle and my baby girl to be born whole... today I am a lot less certain. Today my faith is far more weak.

Today is the day I press in further with my Jesus and let His strength hold me up.

God moved in big ways this week with two babies, yet still in the womb. One child nearly confirmed as ectopic was found safely hanging out in the womb and one who's labor had begun too soon was stopped as suddenly as it started... and I do honestly rejoice and find comfort in those two big blessings. But if I am truly honest, part of me is jealous too. I am stuck right in the middle of my storm and I too, want word that my baby is whole and everything is okay. I want my waters calmed.

I was sharing with some ladies the other day, that I don't believe I will see Eden's healing until the moment she is born. I will have at least one more scheduled ultrasound, but I feel like God is whispering to me not to rely on those to show me. So in a way I fear them...

It is hard to rejoice in my pregnancy, even though I rejoice in Eden. It is hard to not feel just a little bit sad when I feel her constant movement. I so deeply believe she will be born whole, but there is still a very human part of me that can't let go of what I've been told is her prognosis. So I delight and mourn every roll and kick.

God reminded me tonight of so many of the "classic bible stories", the ones even my unsaved family and friends would know... Most of the biggest miracles came after longer periods of intense suffering... The woman who had bled for 12 years (Luke 8: 42-44) Mary and Martha who watched their brother die and buried him (John 11) Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (Daniel 3) The father who's daughter was ill and died (Luke 8: 40-56) and so many more...

I am in the midst of my trial, and only God can carry me through.

Also, a lesson I learned this week... This trial is not mine or my family's alone.

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.

2 Corinthians 1: 8-11

God has put my family on this path, and at times it feels lonely, but he has put us here with our church family as well. And not just those who sit next to us in the pews but in churches all over the world... that when we testify of His amazing and wonderful healing of my sweet baby girl, when we see her chasing her siblings up the aisles in the church sanctuary, that all The Church will be edified. That we proclaim God's healing power and many more will come to know Him. And many more will be healed...

Please continue to pray for us, as each day seems to bring a new hurt, a new phone call trying to tear into our decision, another reminder of what we are to endure.

Out of the mouths of babes...

A month ago my biggest worry was the flaky plumbing in my new house. And it wasn't even a serious worry because I'm a renter, so I didn't have to foot the bill to fix it.

Today I am wondering if this is all too much for my older kids. If I am being selfish or cruel to them or Eden. I believe in my heart of hearts, and in the deepest recesses of my spirit, that this is the absolute right thing to do, but when those kinds of arrows are flung at you... it hurts.

I have spent the last several days really feeling good and confident, but today it just all fell apart.

First came the phone call. The one where I was told all about how little sense this all made. How I was hurting my older kids and how waiting was going to make everything harder on them. How it was cruel to keep Eden with me. How I should just let her go...

And then the talk with the teacher about my oldest and how out of sorts and disobedient he's been. The compassion for how he's feeling, but at the same time needing to get his behavior under control. And his long, hard, ugly cry on the way home about every "bad thing" that happened this week... the cry that ends with how much it hurts him to think about his sister who might die.

So I begin to wonder if somewhere I've made a colossal mistake and I ask him again about the impact of waiting... and he explains how it's better to wait because if they take her out now she *will* die but if we wait she could be okay. And that hope was better...

I always knew God used our children to teach us great lessons, but this was again, so true.

Jer 29: 11 For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

I can only trust in God to bring prosperity in this situation. Nothing on earth will bring me the hope I so desperately need. So desperately cling too in moments like this.

I keep going back to Lazarus...

I don't claim to be a bible scholar. I wish I were...but I just know there is so much to be learned from taking these steps everyday.

When I wake up in the morning and open my eyes...I am trying to remember to thank God I am on this journey. I mean it's not one I'd have chosen. It's not one I ever anticipated could be a good thing... but I am strangely excited by it.

I know it's all the prayer, as so many people I love and who support me, have spent, and continue to spend countless hours on their knees.

My prayer time is disjointed at best. I am trying to find my quiet place with God, time to be alone and really focus, it's not easy. And my words run out often and I am just left with the name of Jesus and a prayer shawl wrapped around me.

For whatever reason, God has put me and my family in this place, with this struggle, at this time. Several of you have commented on my strength, it is not *mine*...it is wholly given by God and I really don't understand it. I suppose this is "the peace that passes understanding".

Philippians 4: 4-8

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

I am excited about what God will do on this journey. In me, In my husband, in my children... I am prayerful that this will impact my extended family as well. I am prayerful that I will bring my sweet baby into an extended family of believers. Of course I always think I know how God *should* operate... and spend a lot of time trying to convince Him my plan is the best.

Just like Mary and Martha with Lazarus...

John 11:21 and 32

21 "Lord," Martha said to Jesus, "if you had been here, my brother would not have died.

32When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."

But sparing Lazarus was not His plan. God could have prevented this with Eden. He could have knit her together whole from the very beginning. He could have taken her early to avoid this painful period, He could have caused her never to be conceived in the first place...

Sparing Mary and Martha any hurt was also not His plan. Oh how I wish being a Christian got me a "get out of pain free" card, but sometimes being a Christian brings pain all it's own. Rejection, judgement, misunderstanding...

I know also that my pain causes God's heart to grieve.. just as John, chapter 11, speaks twice of Jesus' heartbreak before Lazarus' tomb. He knew that in a matter of moments the pain of those who loved Him and whom He loved would vanish...but still he wept for them.

Just as He now weeps for me.

I have mourned my daughter just as Mary and Martha mourned their brother. I pray He calls Eden from the grave as He did Lazarus... and I pray that when He does this people will turn to Him and accept the gift He so wants to give.

A little more

One of my main concerns as we faced the decision on whether or not to carry Eden to term was the impact it would have on the older kids...

Sunday, while running errands as a family, I stole a few moments with my oldest son, nearly 9 years old... When we had first told them the baby wasn't going to be able to live, they asked very few questions. Just cried... the questions came in the next few days, eventually asking where she was. I explained she was still in my tummy but the Dr might need to help get her out.

So I spoke to my oldest about how it would make him feel if I continued to get more and more pregnant but Eden was still not able to survive. His answer surprised and comforted me... He stated very matter of factly "I think that would be better. Because if the Drs take her out too soon she might still be alive and that wouldn't be good." It was so simple but so true. That wouldn't be good... not for any one of us. Mind you, for the few days I had lived with the decision to terminate I had reminded him after his prayers that Eden be okay, "I don't think that's going to happen buddy." Here was this honest and sincere childlike faith, and I was trying my best to fit it in the box I had constructed. His answer was always the same "Yeah, but it could." We have always tried to instill in the kids God's amazing ability to heal... they pray for ever cold and boo-boo, to him, this is no bigger.

Then yesterday I had a moment with my daughter, now she is my baby who loves to raise her hands and worship, or sit on her special prayer mat... but, I never really know how deep it goes with her. She is a special little girl with a certain depth to her I sometimes have a hard time figuring out. I remember her tears once as she confessed shed never actually heard God when she prayed. I remember explaining to her that it takes practice to hear Gods voice, and that every time she felt the inclination to be kind, loving, or do what's right, she was hearing the voice of God.

Yesterday I asked her the same thing about how she would feel... she paused a bit. I don't think she's terribly comfortable with the idea as it seems a little odd. But she looked at me and said "I think, but I'm not sure, I think God told me she'll be okay. 'cuz I heard a voice." That last part she said pointing to her temple.

I had to fight tears as I said "Well baby, I sure hope you are right." Now I don't know if this was the voice of God she heard, but I don't doubt it could be. I never underestimate the prayers of a child.

10 days ago my whole world changed...

11 days ago I was a wife and mother to three, expecting a fourth child in October. I had the next year or so planned, how we work things out over the summer season and how our daily schedules would jive with a newborn come the fall...

11 days ago I made an appointment for a followup ultrasound. I had some irregular pre-natal testing and my doctor seemed most convinced I was having multiples or my dates were way off... I had no idea what could possibly go wrong. I am low risk for every anomaly that I had been tested for. So 11 days ago I started preparing myself for the possibility of twins.

10 days ago I walked into an overcrowded waiting room and everything changed.

By the time I'd met with the genetic counselor I knew something *could* be wrong. I still didn't expect it to be. I consented to an amniocentesis, in case I needed one to further clarify ultrasound results. I didn't even do that amnio. The Dr performing the ultrasound took a quick peek and then started talking about moving me to a different room to see more clearly... she also started whispering with the nurse about how I wouldn't need the amnio and I felt relived. I made a joke about not really wanting one anyway. The Dr. Turned to me and said "Oh, I've already seen the anomaly and it is very clear without the amnio. That's why I'm moving you to the next room, so you will see it better. But i have to finish with a patient in there." and she left.

In that instant everything went haywire. Something was wrong with my baby... and I was left to wonder for what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only a few minutes , what could possibly be wrong. I wondered what kind of special care my child might need.

When they transferred me over to the next room and squirted more warm jelly on my stomach the Dr, I hadn't caught her name, I think she told me but I missed it entirely, anyway, she proceeded to measure things like leg bones, heart valves...beautifully beating heart valves... and various other body parts. The whole time she did this I searched for anything that looked misshapen or wrong. Finally she told me what had happened to my child... it's skull hadn't fused and the brain had never developed fully. There was a brain stem but little to no fore brain... the part of your brain that basically makes you a person. I was stunned.

She then, proceeded to explain that the baby I was carrying would likely not survive pregnancy, and had little chance of lasting even an hour after birth. She gave me technical terms and prognosis, and whys... but all I heard was my baby wasn't going to live. After she had explained all this, had told me all the various reasons "termination" was suggested, she asked me if I had any other questions... "Is it a boy or girl?" She seemed surprised I wanted to know but confirmed what I thought I'd seen a few weeks earlier in a different ultrasound..."A girl".

I walked out of that office with everything in my head swirling... I had to tel my husband, I had to tell my two oldest children, I had to get home, I had to make decisions. I knew only one thing, I knew her name... Eden Rebekah had just been given a terminal prognosis.

As a Christian, and actually even before I ever accepted the Truth of Jesus as My Savior, I had always held firmly to the belief that life begins the moment a sperm meets egg. You may not agree, I'm not asking you too. This is not the place for that argument. I never thought there was a moment the switch flipped. I also didn't think it was the "right" of anyone to end that life. I knew there were exceptions... ectopic pregnancies need to be ended, if a mother's life is jeopardised... I was pretty sure those were the exceptions. But now, here was this whole new, and vast, and murky grey area I never knew existed. My baby, my baby can not live outside my body. Not now, not 22 weeks from now. Not ever.

So my husband and I were faced with some enormous realities and even bigger decisions.

We prayed for discernment and we prayed for hope. We prayed for miraculous healing for our baby. We felt lost. We felt we'd lost her already.

We did decide to have a confirmation ultrasound, you can't do something this enormous without a second opinion. The confirmation was just that, confirmation. No skull, no brain... but a beating heart.

We cried and consulted my wonderful OB. The options she laid out were termination or carrying the baby, knowing all along she wouldn't survive. I imagined 5 more months of that kind of pain, I wondered what I would do if any of my three older children were on life support with no hope of survival... I would let them go. We decided to let Eden go... my heart broke at the thought but it seemed right... or as right as things could seem.

All this time I had friends and church family pulling for a miracle. Praying and holding my family up. One friend told me that on that Sunday (two days before the confirmation) that God had revealed to her that Steven and I were like Moses who couldn't hold our arms up on our own to fight this battle but that she and others were being like Aaron and Hur, holding us up. (Exodus 17: 8-12)

So Tuesday we decided that we would make the heartbreaking decision to end the pregnancy. I was broken at the thought. My dr said she would call with the information that day... and that day the information didn't come, nor did it come the next day. Finally I called on Thursday, after my husband had returned to work. He'd taken off that Monday through Wednesday... I wrote the information on a pad of paper on my desk... I didn't call.

Friday came and went... I didn't call. And for the first time in a week I felt like I could breathe.

Saturday I talked to my husband and we decided to wait until this busy time at work was passed to make the appointment... and again I felt like I could breathe. I even went to a wedding reception and had a good time. My first real outing since this whole thing began.

A good friend of mine said to me on Friday "I'm just worried about you. I don't know how you will live with having made this decision." It wasn't said in judgement or to sway me. It was said in love. And I realized in that moment, I couldn't. I had begun to beg God, not for healing but for a miscarriage. I realized the terror I had at facing such a difficult choice. Even if my daughter has no conscious thought, can not feel pain, will never be whole, I can't make a choice to end her life.

Yesterday was Sunday, it was the first Sunday back at church, just nine days after the initial diagnosis. Service always starts with a time of singing and worshiping God with Song. My husband plays flute with the worship team and I sit with the kids. I had barely made it though the first song when my hear began to overflow with love and praise for my savior. Yes, this all sucks, but God is still God. he still created the heavens and the earth. He will still cause good to come from this. It is an accordance with his promise in Romans 8:28 "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" I began to raise my hands in surrender to Him and at that moment I remembered the words of my friend a week earlier, about being able to hold my own hands up. I sang out to a song which said ...

Lord reign in me

Reign in your power

Over all my dreams

In my darkest hour

You are the Lord of all I am
So won't you reign in me again

Over every thought

Over every word

May my life reflect the beauty of my Lord

'Cause you mean more to me than any Earthly thing

So won't you reign in me again

I have sung this song a million times in my Christian life, but this was the first time i understood what it was to ask God to have his way over "every dream" in "my darkest hour". Because this hour...this hour is dark and I do have dreams.

We had a missionary couple speak and very briefly did they mention this one thing. Jesus as Healer. They said something to the effect that when we "proclaim Jesus as healer" we have done our part. He then does his part...He does the healing.

Later, after service, I did go forward for special prayer... as my pastor explained to the couple the story of my sweet baby, I sensed a brokenness in him. I grew up with his daughter, spent much of my teens in his house, and I could see that this was hard for him as well as for me. As he explained Eden's missing skull and brain the female missionary simply said "Is no problem." With such authority, such faith. They prayed for me, for Eden, and for my family. They prayed that she be "whole" they Declared her as whole and prayed peace for my husband and I.

Up until this point I hadn't yet talked to Steven about my desire to carry the baby until God brought a natural end. It wasn't even because I expected a miracle, I just didn't feel right about the choice.

On the way out to lunch after service we began to speak about the prayers of the couple, the words of encouragement from our church family, and where our hearts were leading. It came as a great relief to me to have Him agree with waiting indefinitely.

It's hard to explain but I am both fully confident God will heal Eden, and fully confident that if He doesn't this is the right choice.

I imagine being able to call my mother from the hospital and tell her of her healthy granddaughter. Of God's grace and mercy and his miracles. I wonder what challenges will come with parenting a child whom God has used like this. Asking God, just this morning, that i would have wisdom with parenting her. And then in the same moment preparing my heart to say goodbye, again.

This morning, as if to confirm what was happening in my heart I received this email...

In Daniel 3, there is the common story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. King Nebuchadnezzar throws them into a burning fire for not bowing down to his gods. In Daniel 3: 16-18 the three God followers reply, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you. I f we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God whom we serve is able to save us. He will rescue us from your powers, Your Majesty. But even if he doesn't, Your Majesty can be sure that we will never serve your gods or worship the gold statue you have set up."

I am sure you are familiar with the story. In the bible study the three God followers thought of two options that God would move in their troubling situation. Scenario A: We can be delivered from the fire. Or scenario B: We can be delivered by the fire into His arms. But the message talked about another solution. A way that God moves that catches us off guard. Something that shows us that He is the one in control, and He knew the whole time. Instead, scenario C happened: They were delivered through the fire. The story is that God met them in the fire. He kept them safe, that even though they were tied up so that they could not shield themselves they were not hurt. In fact in the end as they were called out of the fire it was recalled by the King that they didn't even smell of smoke.

Sometimes I would like to tell God that I only want him to deliver me from the fire. I don't really want to go through any pain or anxiety. I pray so much that God will help you that way. I pray so much that God would heal your little baby like he healed the women who was hemorrhaging. She had so much faith that she knew if she just touched the hem of his garment she would be healed. I don't know if I have that much faith, but I pray that God will do it for you. I pray that God will touch that head that is rested in you and bring it whole. But sometimes God works other ways either delivering that baby into His arms or delivering us through the fire. I wish I knew.