Strange how that it is — that sometimes something has to fall apart — for something better to fall together. - ann voscamp
First there was this post in November of last year -
Monday, November 15, 2010
One Thousand Gifts . . .
My gratitude list continues . . .
My baby sister sits across from the doctor in the office that swaddles the women who beg God for babies. Women that lay their hope at the feet of the Creator of science.
Certificates line the walls and success stories and grinning toothless babies paper the walls.
He says he's running out of words to describe her progress.
He uses . . .
Spectacular.
Why? she asks.
Words like follicle, measurements, and egg retrieval are floating in this room where hope surges to a new level. Where a heart and mind struggle to come together and maintain the shadow of doubt necessary to keep heart from shattering. Where heart and mind fail.
the days of wait ahead
the promise of your prayers for her and others like her, where the heart only desires what the arms ache to hold
My list, #'s 415-424.
Then there was this post days later -
Thursday, November 18, 2010
It is a sad day. The baby that never really was is being grieved over like we all held it and oohhed and ahhed and loved it.
But we did love it. The possiblility of this child was as easy to love as if it already had a heart that beat to the rhythm of my sister's.
Doctors say they don't understand - but we do. We know it all lays at the feet of a Father who is the giver of life and the non giver.
Today we come to Jesus and cry. She cries and he cries and we all cry for them. For a gift has been withheld, a door has been shut, the answer has been whispered - No, not now, not this way. No, my child.
Now today - Sunday, October 2, 2011 - I write this.
I continued to count blessings. Because I knew I had too. And they waited and cried more and hoped big.
And now - almost one year later - only four weeks later than if she had conceived on that sad day - we have been given a perfect gift from what is perfect grace.
And somewhere he was born to a mother stronger than words can type here. And here he was given to my sister and the man who loves her. Happier than words can type here. And grateful, so grateful.
Welcome new nephew. Welcome to our family and our home and our lives and our hearts. We have loved you for a long time now.
You are home.
One thousand gifts - all in this little life.
Thank you, Father God.
My list continues . . .
the promise of your prayers for others who still wait, where the heart only desires what the arms ache to hold
