What Comes Will Be His Gift

Sometimes I wake up and feel the stillness, I wonder if I’m empty again. I wait, trying just to breath when everything feels too quiet.

And then I feel her. She moves so deep within me. That pulse inside—the universe shifts—I feel her intertwined with my body and blood, nestled deep inside, everything that I am is protecting her. And yet I am completely out of control, this seed growing and growing takes no thought from myself. I don’t knit her together. I don’t form her blinking eyes, curling fingers, or kicking feet. Yahweh does—the One who has always been the Creator and always will be. She is a seed I pressed down eager and hopeful into soft soil, praying a lovely bud would uncurl and grow up strong. That is all I have to do with the miracle.

Previous years of believing I would never hold a child again are starting to fade. Things that I was too afraid to even whisper, I’m starting to sing out rejoicing with others. I don’t flinch anymore when asked when my baby will arrive. I have enough hope now to look forward to that day. Her movements down deep have given me enough strength to gather a few little clothes and blankets. She walks with me, giving me the courage to wear a dress draped to show my belly swelling, inviting smiles and congratulations, the world sharing their tokens of hope and thanksgiving.

I can receive them now, because I believe in miracles. I believe in a babe taking its first breath. I believe in children growing to know God’s love in this dark world. And I believe this world is always, ever a place of light even when hearts and families and nations are breaking, because God still speaks. Jesus plants seeds and hope and He never leaves. He has come and is coming again so that those who sow weeping will go out with songs of joy.

The first trimester I stumbled through a fog—of fear and fatigue, nausea and surprised hope. Her heart kept beating and I took hormones that increased the fog. I slept and ate and prayed and those seemingly endless months passed. The second trimester arrived like a clear day, announced she was a girl after so many boys birthed, and with it brought enough energy and hope to prepare a home for her. Now the third trimester is on the brink and it’s hard for me to think beyond the present day—maybe that is a gift in itself. What comes will be His gift, nothing more, nothing less.

In this moment I can rest to know that I am blessed to hold life within. I cradle a miracle between muscle and bone.

. . .

“Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.”

Psalm 126:5-6

Sharon has three sons here on earth and three precious children in heaven. She is married to the love of her life, and has been rescued by Jesus. She is a believer, homeschooling mama, writer, photographer and educator. She currently calls Southern California home although she is originally a mid-western girl. Sharon contributes to various online and print publications including Aglow Magazine, Wild + Free Community, Wild Explorers Magazine, Deeply Rooted Magazine and Drift Journal. Sharon shares on her blog about her life, her journey through a full-term loss, a loss at sixteen weeks and an early miscarriage and the faith that has carried her.

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