sweet surrender

I have not been able to get this conversation out of my head.

For a short while after service on Sunday, one of the ladies in church sat down with me. I admire and respect her greatly; she's always seemed to model to me what a godly Christian woman should be like. She mainly wanted to ask how I was doing with all that has been going on with the baby. She herself has lost two children, so she spoke to me from a place of having walked through the darkest valleys.

The thing that I keep running over in my head was when she reminded me of how much God must love us, that He turned away from His son to let him die on the cross for us. In our humanness, it is so difficult and painful to be separated from our children. I have not even seen this baby, not even carried him or her in my arms, and already, everything within me wants to rebel against giving him up. Everything within me wants to cling on to him.

God didn't flinch from it. This perfect child that He had, who had done no wrong, who had not frustrated him, who had not tired him out, was suffering and in pain. And God didn't flinch from it. Because He loved us. Because He loved me.

Yet another thing that has been extremely humbling for me.

It has been a slow process of surrender. It is less than two weeks to the amniocentesis. I am starting to get nervous about the needle, among other things.

But I am also slowly surrendering it all to God. To the One who loves me. To the One who loves this child more than I ever could. My human nature is weak, and so the process of surrender has not been easy. But I choose it.

I choose it.

Because "in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Rom 8:28).

Because whether this baby is born healthy against all the odds, whether this baby is born with special needs, or whether this baby is going home to Jesus sooner than I would wish, God works for good.

And I choose that.