The Naming of Aria Iolani

It was an early Sunday morning in July.  Most of the family was still in bed.  I was on the computer Googling “names meaning eagle” and hoping no one would come down the stairs and see what I was doing.

I felt rather silly, looking up baby names.  I was 41.  I already had 9 beautiful children.  I had no reason to think that I would ever be blessed with another one.  I would say from time to time, “I think I would like to have a baby in my 40s.”  My husband would always respond, “You’re crazy.”

I felt a little crazy just then, but I felt compelled to do it.  I just had to know what names were out there that meant “eagle.”  Over the past few years God had used many amazing encounters to convince me that I was meant to be an eagle.  I was beginning to let go of who I thought I was (a quiet girl who was deathly afraid of heights) and believe who God made me to be.

I found many names that fit the bill.  However, I needed an “A” name for a girl and a “C” name for a boy to follow the pattern of all our other children.  I could find no suitable boy name, try as I might!  A girl’s name struck me as though it were jumping off the computer screen .

Aria Iolani

 Aria:

Hebrew from Ariel – lion or lioness of God

Italian – air, melody

Sanskrit and Persian – noble, honorable

Teutonic – intelligence of an eagle

Iolani (ee-oh-lahn-ee):

Hawaiian – hawk of royalty, bird of heaven, to soar like an eagle

How perfect!  How beautiful!  A dream had been planted in my heart; a tiny seed carrying the perfect name. A dream that I would one day have a daughter who would bear this name.  A daughter who would have the vision and intelligence of an eagle.  A daughter who would know her identity from the womb. She would not have to live 40 years on the ground before it began to dawn on her…she was meant to FLY!

A few months later, in December, I found that I was pregnant.  The revelation came at a time I didn’t expect.  It didn’t seem like the right time for another baby.  But …perhaps this dream in my heart had been a dream in God’s heart all along.  Perhaps now was THE TIME!

My oldest daughter, Areli, loved the girl’s name I had found!  The boys did not like it, mostly because they wanted the baby to be a boy.  Chris liked the named “Aria” but wasn’t sure about “Iolani.”  It was too hard for him to remember and pronounce correctly, and he thought it would difficult for others as well.

I checked out a bunch of books from the library about Hawaii since Areli was planning on going there for school in the next year or so.  I discovered that there is an Iolani Palace in Hawaii, the only royal palace in the United States.  That settled it.  “Iolani” was THE middle name!

I was excited but told myself that this baby could easily be a boy.  Soon sickness and other pregnancy discomforts (that I had never experienced before) came upon me.  The dream of “Aria Iolani” was still a lovely thought, but it was overpowered by the thoughts of a victim pleading for release from her prison.  I understood that all that was going on in my spirit was being experienced by my baby’s spirit as well.  I tried to be thankful and upbeat.  I tried to speak over my baby love and peace and truth.  Half the time I doubted the truth myself.  That God really loved me and that someday I would feel good again.

Many fears started to plague my mind.  What if there was something wrong with this baby?  What if there was something wrong with my body?  And the worst fear of all, what if this child had a chromosomal abnormality like Ashlyn had?  I love Ashlyn and I am still amazed that God would trust us with such a special child.  Still, I always thought that having two special children would be absolutely too much to handle, and I would break under the strain of it.  With each pregnancy there has been a small chance, and each time this fear rears its ugly head.  This pregnancy the fear was worse than usual, almost suffocating me at times.

I didn’t go to church for two months.  Finally I was feeling well enough to go to a Sunday morning service.  As I entered the balcony of the sanctuary, I heard the Helsers leading worship.  I felt the sweet presence of God, and I longed to linger there forever!  They were singing, “Mt. Zion.”

We have come to Mount Zion

City of the living God

Heavenly Jerusalem

By his blood we have come

I felt God’s presence.  I felt peace and joy.  I felt safety and security.  The fears dissipated.  Hope started rising.  This is where I should have been living this whole time.  This is where I wanted my baby to live, even in the womb.  I felt sad that I had been such a bad mother so far.  I had tried to abide in the presence of God in my own home.  But most of the time I just felt sick and discouraged.

Here at church I could feel His presence, as though Mount Zion was a reality I was dwelling in. The song continued:

Thousands of angels dance around his throne

Thousands more sing out new songs

And elders throw their crowns down

As all of heaven sings out

 

“Baby, this is where you are to live all the time,” I told the precious little one.

                “I know, mama.”

I heard a sweet little girl’s voice say these words.  At least I thought it sounded like a girl. I knew it was my baby.  This was very unexpected and unusual.  It wasn’t said in a sassy voice as if to imply that I was being dumb for thinking my baby didn’t already know this.

It was said in a comforting voice as if to say, “Mama, you worry too much.  I am just fine.  I just recently came to you from heaven.  I could see those angels in person, and I can see them still.  I am still surrounded by His presence.”

I felt more at peace than I had in a long time.  My baby was more aware of spiritual realities than I was.  She was most definitely an amazing child.  I began to remember all the fears I had confronted during previous pregnancies.  One by one those fears had fallen by the wayside, replace by peace.  Almost across board just the opposite had proven to be true.

I didn’t need to worry about this baby’s health, well-being, or intelligence.  She (or possibly he, I had to remind myself) was extraordinary…a super baby!  She (or he) had just spoken to me from the womb for goodness sake!

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On March 30th we had an ultrasound that revealed a perfect and beautiful baby girl!  My dream was growing inside me.

Aria Iolani

About four weeks before my due date, Aria dropped.  She was sitting low and I was uncomfortable.

“At least she is head down and in the right position.  She is getting ready to be born, and it won’t be long now,” I thought.

Each week she dropped a little lower.  Each week I was more uncomfortable.  I kept having signs that labor was near, but no real labor would come.  The last week, each day felt exponentially worse than the day before.  My due date, August 16th came and went, and Aria became my first baby that was actually late.

Finally my water broke the night of August 17th.  The next day labor still had not started, but my homebirth midwife came over to check on me.  I was already dilated to 5 cm and Aria was at +3 station.  The midwife said that babies normally are not that low unless the mom was already in labor.  We both thought that once labor started, Aria would be born quickly.  We were wrong.

Labor finally began around 3pm on August 18th but it progressed very slowly.  I was listening to worship music, scriptures, and birth affirmations.  I was enjoying God’s presence.  He was speaking to me and showing me visions of Himself.   Before I knew it, it was evening.  I didn’t feel like I was in transition even though I was dilated to 10.

Then it got difficult.  I never really had a difficult labor, so it was a new experience.  Aria was so close to being born, yet she wasn’t being born!  I am sure it was difficult for her too, but her heart-rate remained steady.  Finally after an ambulance ride, an epidural, Pitocin, and some sleep; Aria supernaturally came into the outside world at 2:33 am on August 19, 2018.  I felt no pain and consciously did nothing at all.

I simply slept and prayed, “Jesus, you do this because I can’t.”

I woke up to the slightest bit of pressure.  My midwife looked under my covers to see that Aria’s head was crowning!

She was born quickly and placed in my arms.  The rest of the room faded away.  There was only my baby.

Aria Iolani

She was beautiful and peaceful.  I noticed her eyes first.  They were open wide and moving slowly back and forth, scanning and taking it all in.  To me they looked like the eyes of an eagle.

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She is now six weeks old.  Aria had not been as sleepy as my other newborns.  She is more alert and her eyes are always looking.

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The midwife saw her at three weeks and said, “She seems more like a 6 week old that a 3 week old.”  At 3 ½ weeks she began to really look at our faces and smile! The most adorable smile.

Not all is prefect of course.  My recovery had been much slower this time.  Aria finds it hard to just fall asleep, and she spends a good amount of time crying when she is tired.  She also had the worst case of thrush I have ever seen.  Then came the baby acne.

But when I nurse her and look at her baby face, I am so thankful for the chance to have her as a daughter, my 10th child.

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What a rare and precious jewel.  When I prayed for her during my difficult pregnancy, God showed me so clearly that Aria is vitally important – to this family, to this world, and to eternity.  She was not an extra baby or an optional baby.  She NEEDED to be here.  Just like every single baby ever to be conceived.

Of course to me Aria is amazing!  Brilliant, observant, and born to fly.

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Aria Iolani

A dream come true.

Adjusting to Life with a Newborn…Again

I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in three months.  I know that it is going to be any night now, yet every early morning I am awakened by her sweet snuffles and cries for milk.  I feel like I am on the brink of total exhaustion and my brain is mush.  I haven’t written much lately because I am not sure whether I can put coherent thoughts together.

I have done this before, eight times!  You would think that I would have it down.  Yet somehow it is all new, with this new little, bitty, pretty one.

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I don’t know much for sure, except that there is nothing like motherhood to reveal your weaknesses.  Motherhood is able to bring even the most confident woman to the realization that she knows almost nothing at all.  But what a gift that revelation is!

To meet this new person that I have felt wiggling inside of me is pure magic!

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Her skin is soft as silk.

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Her eyes are big blueberries.

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Her lashes are so long and curly, just like a little girl’s lashes should be.

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She sleeps a bit more than the boys did, and her cry is softer.  She begins to smile and I see that she has dimples around her mouth like I do, and a big dimple in her cheek like Daddy does.

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She seems very peaceful, thank you Jesus!  But the next week she is awake for hours at a time and doesn’t seem to want to sleep, oh no!  By the next week she has settled into a predictable three hour feeding pattern.  But the next week after that is totally different!  Finally I think I have her figured out; she will sleep until 5am and pretty soon be sleeping the entire night!  Yes!! I can get my life back!  I can regain my energy, plan my day, exercise, and fit back into my normal clothes again.

But then I find myself sitting in the chair again at 3am, nursing the little bundle in the dark.  I am so tired.  My eyelids are heavy.  So…hard…to…stay…awake.  My head sinks to my chest.  WAIT!  My head snaps back up.  My eyes are open.  I must…stay…awake!  I have fallen asleep in this chair night after night and now my neck has a kink in it and my back is sore.  I must feed her quickly and get back into bed!  I must be strong!

Little Bitty One is totally unaware of my concern.  She nurses lazily and takes almost an hour.  I hear the very first bird song at 3:45am.  Why are those crazy birds awake so early?  The sun won’t be up for hours.  How I wish I didn’t know when the first bird starts singing.  How I wish I was sound asleep, blissfully unaware of the secret life of birds!

I guess I could be enjoying this quiet time when no one else is awake.  I suppose I could spend this time praying.  Alright God, here goes.  God, please help me to not fall asleep in this chair.  Please, please, please let Annalise sleep through the night tomorrow night!  I feel like I can’t do this one more night!  Please, please, please let her get into a predictable schedule.  Then I can start getting up before the rest of the children.  I can start to have a quiet time each morning. Then I can start to pursue you more, God.

Suddenly it hits me.  God’s grace is for me RIGHT NOW!  Not at some point in the future, but right now.  It is always RIGHT NOW.

Joseph Garlington shared this definition of grace – “God’s enabling presence that empowers us to accomplish our created purpose.”  God’s presence is with me right now, in the middle of the night.  His voice is whispering words of love and truth right now to my sleepy brain.  He is wooing my worried heart.  If I spend every moment thanking Him instead of wishing for something else, I can bring His presence closer.  I can cultivate my awareness of Him and accept His power to do what He wants me to do…RIGHT NOW.

And what could possibly be a better time?  His power is perfected in weakness, and I am so weak.  He says that His grace is sufficient for me in times like these.  Not just enough to survive.  No, this is an overflowing, abundant grace that is more than enough for me…RIGHT NOW!

Nursing this baby 6 to 8 times a day for an hour each time means I can’t accomplish very much.  Trying to figure out how to do my normal grocery shopping and errands and therapy appointments each week in the two hours between each feeding makes my brain hurt.  Thinking about having to give up my afternoon nap just to get important things done sends me into a panic!  No, I don’t have much time to check off items on my to-do list.  But I do have plenty of time to sit and nurse, admire my Pretty One and snuggle.

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Time to pray and read and think.

As I think back over my life, I can see some things very clearly.  I see that most things I have attempted to accomplish I have done because I felt like I SHOULD.   Because I would feel guilty if I didn’t.  Because I wouldn’t be as good of a mother as someone else.  I did those things out of my own strength, my own ability, my own effort.  And I failed at most of them.

I think about Solomon’s words in Ecc 3:14, “Everything God does will endure forever.  Nothing can be added to it and nothing taken away from it.”

I think about Jesus’ words in John 15:5, “Apart from me you can do nothing.”  Nothing of eternal significance that will endure that is.  I have done a lot of things!  I have spent a lot of energy and time and have gotten grumpy and stressed out to do a lot of things.  But those things WILL NOT ENDURE.

Now that I am in a position where I feel like I can’t get anything done, it dawns on me.  That is the point!  That is what God is trying to teach me…RIGHT NOW!  His grace is sufficient and when I rest in Him, He is accomplishing things through me that are significant beyond my imagination.  Like growing this little girl, one feeding at a time.

Someday my life might get easier.  Someday I might have it down and be able to coast effortlessly through the day.  Maybe.  So I must make the most of this season…this wonderful and difficult season.  Because this season of weakness is how God is showing me His amazing grace.

RIGHT NOW!

 

Bringing Treasures Down from the Attic

I have been anticipating this glorious event for months now.  I have thought about it and dreamed about it.  Finally it was time to take the newborn girl clothes out of the attic.  They have been packed away for 11 years.  Most of my other girl clothes I have given away, but I kept the cutest and smallest outfits that hold so many memories.

There is the warm layette with delicate rosebuds that my mother used to bundle me as a newborn.

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There is the pink sweater that I received from a baby shower for my first baby.  I wanted to save it to give to my firstborn girl to dress her firstborn girl.

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There are the sweet neutral colored layettes that every one of my babies have worn.

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My favorite frilly outfits for a sweet, cuddly girl.

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Pretty hats to warm the tiny head with dark hair as soft as silk and a smell that lingers only for a little while and can never be duplicated.

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And some recent additions given by grandma that are just too cute to leave out.

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There are also the many outfits given by dear friends and family, brand new, just for this little one! Thank you! Thank you!

The true excitement will happen when I am able to post pictures of our new baby girl wearing all of these treasures from the attic.  She is the real treasure!

I Love a Good Birth Story: Part One – Areli Endura

I love hearing about the miraculous journey that brings a new baby into the world.  I adore talking with a mother of a newborn to hear her entire story.  I enjoy reading about births, and I must have watched about 30 episodes of “A Baby Story” on TV.  But 15 years ago, when it was time for me to give birth for the first time, I had none of these inspirational and informational stories under my belt.  I was young and rather clueless.

I got married at 20 and had my first baby at 23.  The birth of my first child was the first birth I had ever been to.  I didn’t have older sisters or close friends who had given birth to talk to, so I didn’t have many stories to draw information from.  My husband and I did attend a birthing class while I was pregnant, and I learned a lot.  They showed us a video of three births.  Wow!  Talk about graphic and horrific and wonderful all at the same time.  Still, I wasn’t scared to give birth.  I figured that women have been giving birth since time began and if they all could do it, I could do it too!  Many women have very easy labors, and maybe I would be one of them.  Maybe I wouldn’t even feel much pain at all!

I quit my job as a bank teller two weeks before my due date.  I spent those two weeks cleaning every inch of the house, taking walks, taking naps, and enjoying some alone time.  Finally, I had done everything I could think of to do, and waiting was all that was left as my due date came and went.

Chris and I snuggled on the futon for a three-hour movie that Saturday night.  I was getting Braxton Hicks contractions and Chris decided to time them.  They came every 20 minutes like clockwork throughout the entire movie.  We decided to try to get some sleep since the next day, we might be having baby!  I lay down and got comfy in bed, but I just couldn’t sleep.  Those contractions kept coming! We headed to the hospital at 3am.

We arrived to find that my doctor was the doctor on call that night.  I was thrilled, because I really liked him!  He said I was dilated 5 cm (only half way there), and without explaining or asking my permission, he pulled out something like a knitting needle and broke my water.  Experience has taught me to keep the bag of waters intact as long as possible.  Boy did the contractions become intense after that!

I sat in a rocking chair and just rested with my eyes closed.  When a contraction came, I felt like my entire body would cramp up, and I couldn’t relax it.  Chris encouraged me to try all the wonderful positions we had learned in birthing class to bring the baby down.  All of them made the pain worse!  So I resumed my post in the rocking chair as my mother-in-law and a dear friend of the family looked on.

The sun began to rise and the contractions started to come one right on top of another.  I never cried out, but sat as still and relaxed as possible, breathing slowly and deeply.

“Do you think you want to push?” asked my mother-in-law?

“I don’t know.” I said.  I really didn’t know anything about giving birth or pushing.  Now I could tell you that I was in transition and that the baby would be coming soon.  But at the time, I had no idea whether it was going to be 5 minutes or 5 hours until I was ready to push.

They called the doctor in and he confirmed that I was completely dilated and could start pushing.  He had me lay in the bed and push with every contraction for 1 hour and a half.  Most exhausting work I had ever done!  With subsequent births I have learned that it is best to wait to bear down until you really feel the urge, rather than start pushing with all your might as soon as your doctor gives you the go ahead.  I was unsure what the urge felt like, yet when it comes…whoa baby!!!  Heaven and earth couldn’t keep you from recognizing and obeying that powerful force.  Using gravity to help the baby descend is another great idea.  Standing, swatting, or kneeling are great positions!  When that baby is in just the right position, your body and the baby work together in a beautiful dance of spirit, hormones, and love.  It is glorious when you don’t even need those red-faced, blood vessel bursting efforts.  Without much exertion at all, your baby will slip from you quickly and peacefully.  But I am getting ahead of myself and telling a different birth story!

This time I didn’t know any of that, so I was in bed on my back pushing for a very long time.  The doctor gave me a local anesthesia and an episiotomy before the baby emerged.  Again, he did not explain or ask; he just did it.  I would recommend not doing those things and talking about it with your doctor beforehand.  The postpartum pain was 10 times worse and the recovery time was 10 times longer than with any of my other 7 births.

But I wasn’t even thinking about any of that at that moment!  No pain, no worries…just joy and excitement and bliss!

“It’s a girl!” I heard someone announce at 9:21am on Palm Sunday.

The precious dark-haired princess latched on right away and nursed for the next hour.  I was so happy and complete.  I was holding my Areli Endura, “Heroic Lioness of God with Endurance.”

My doctor visited me the next day.

“You had a wonderful, natural birth.  It was good for the nurses to see that.”

I marveled at his comment.  I thought my birth was pretty normal, but perhaps not, if the nurses were not used to witnessing a birth like mine.  I have since learned that most births do contain some interventions and medications that often lead to complications and other interventions.  As the years went by, I started collecting birth stories from other women and a common thread emerged.

PAIN!  Intense pain that would push the woman to submit to any procedure recommended in an effort to escape it.  This was a little curious to me.  Sure, I had experienced the worse pain I had ever felt in my entire life!  Yet I never felt like I couldn’t handle it, and the thought of medication never enter my mind.  Why?  I just don’t think I experienced the pain that most women do when giving birth.  But why, I kept asking myself.

Then I remembered a teaching tape I had listened to before I was ever married.  The preacher was talking about the verse in Genesis 3:16 that refers to “multiplied pain” in child-birth.  He said that it was a curse and that ALL curses were broken when Jesus became a curse and hung on that tree.  I could be free from the curse of multiplied pain in childbirth!  I prayed that prayer right then and there in my bedroom 4 years before I ever gave birth.

“Jesus, I thank you that you have taken every curse.  In your name I break the curse of multiplied pain in childbirth.  I will not believe the reports and stories that say that childbirth has to be excruciatingly painful!  I will give birth without multiplied pain!”

And it really did work, all those years later without me even actively thinking about it.  And guess what?  Jesus died to take every curse from you as well!  Pray that prayer, I dare you!

The first step to experiencing a natural birth with very little pain is to believe that it is possible! There are hundreds of factors that come into play to determine the outcome of labor.  Many of these factors we have no control over whatsoever. But God is in control of everything, and I am convinced that He meant childbirth to be an honor for a woman to participate in with overflowing joy!  Jesus suffered pain so that we would not have to.  And the pain that we do experience in pregnancy, labor, and motherhood can always be used by Him to bring forth something beautiful!

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God Needs Me?

“He can do all things without us, but He had chosen to do them through us.” – The Call by Rick Joyner

I was pregnant with baby number eight.  It had been three years since my last pregnancy, and I felt the strongest, the healthiest, the most alive I had ever felt!  That was…until the morning sickness settled in.  It was actually “all day but much worse in the evening sickness”.  I had not felt horribly nauseous during my previous pregnancies, more like continuous car sickness.  How I had wished I could stop the invisible car and just get out!  I was optimistic that this pregnancy would be the exception, that I could say with a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye, “I love being pregnant!”

Just the opposite had happened.  I had never felt so bad!  My days consisted of sitting on the sofa with my eyes closed, trying to feel better.  My children ran around unattended.  Home school, which we should have started a month ago, remained untouched.  My older children did all the chores around the house and kept it running, though not as orderly or smoothly as I would have.  My precious firstborn girl, Areli, carried an enormous burden.  She heard my pitiful pleas all day long.

“Areli, could you make me some eggs?”

“Areli, could you fill up my water glass?”

“Areli, could you see who is crying upstairs, please?”

I tried to be a good mom; but mostly I whined, moaned, slept, felt sick, got sick, and slept some more.  I felt useless and wretched.  I knew theoretically that despite the weakened state of my body, my spirit could still soar high above my circumstances, like an eagle above the clouds.  Yet, after days, weeks, and months of feeling crummy, my eagle had forgotten how to fly.  My mind kept thinking about scriptures such as

“For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever!” 2 Cor 4:17

I knew that it was true, but it didn’t help me feel any better.

I thought about my joy in a newborn baby and how it was all worth it.

But it didn’t make me feel any better.

I reread every “Above Rubies” magazines I had ever received to encourage myself.

My mind was encouraged but my flesh still felt miserable!

My body felt like it was not capable to getting up off the sofa and doing anything productive or enjoyable, yet my mind continued to churn, swirling in descending circles.

“I just want to die.  I can’t live like this.  Why do I have to suffer?  Why does God allow me to feel so horrible?”

Pregnancy is such a miracle, a blessing, a gift!  So why did I feel so bad?  My suffering was nothing compared to other women I knew, who kept almost nothing down for nine months, yet my suffering felt like too much for me to bear.

The question I kept asking was, “Is this worth it?” and I knew that it was.  A new life is always worth it.  After a mother is holding that precious bundle, her sorrow is turned into joy.

Then the question became, “How much is a human life worth?  How much pain and sorrow is one life worth?  How much would I suffer for one human life?  Would I get pregnant and do this all again for one more human life?  How much is a life worth to God?  How much suffering did Jesus endure?”

The only conclusion I could come to was this; one human life is worth IT ALL!  There is no limit to the value God puts on a life, no price too high to pay, no suffering too severe.  Jesus suffered more than any of us.  He went through betrayal, slander, hatred, lies, scourging, mocking, and the cruelest execution ever conceived.  He felt the wretched, incurable sickness of the evil of the entire world. And he bore the effects of that twisted iniquity; separation with all that is good and beautiful and holy, his Father.

He said that his suffering was worth it because of the joy set before him. (Hebrews 12:2) That joy was human life, redeemed and set free.  He said that I am worth it.  He said that you are worth it.  He said that the child in my womb was worth it.  If Jesus was willing to suffer for my child, shouldn’t I?  After the suffering of His soul, he saw the light of life (my life, your life, my child’s life) and he was satisfied. (Isaiah 53:11)

I knew that my suffering wasn’t in vain, but I still didn’t feel any better.

“God, give me a vision of this child!  Something to keep me going,” I prayed.

In my mind’s eye I saw beams of life coming from this child and shooting out to the far reaches of the earth.  This child would be a blessing to me and my family, yes.  But he would also have an impact on the entire world!  How?  I have no idea!  But if I could have some small part in sending life to the whole of mankind, sign me up!

Then I heard God’s loving voice.

“Thank you for being available.  Without you, I couldn’t bring this child of destiny into the world.”

Then I felt the peace that only God’s voice can bring.  I felt His gratitude sink deep into my soul until I was saturated by the unbelievable goodness of it. God needs me?  The all powerful God NEEDS ME to be available?  What if I had said that seven children were quite enough, and that there were too many children in the world already?  THIS particular child, with unique DNA from his father and from me that could never be duplicated, would have never existed!  His very individual purpose and destiny would have never been manifested.  His precious personality, which was a dream in God’s heart since before the world began (Ephesians 1:4), would have never been realized.  And now he exists…because of me!  I cannot think of anything more powerful.  I cannot think of any higher honor for God to give me, than helping Him to create something of inestimable value and eternal impact.

I never could say during that pregnancy that I enjoyed being pregnant.  But I could say that pregnancy was when I relied on God the most and sensed His presence the closest and felt His glory the heaviest.  And the moment that precious Babe was born…I could say…

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HE WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT!