Mama Prays

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." - Isaiah 41:10

This may come as a shock, but I like to be in control… of pretty much everything. It helps me feel safe. Comfortable. Grounded. Granted, 2 1/2 years in Africa has helped "cure" me of this, at least when it comes to circumstances outside my home. Because, frankly, all plans in Zambia are contingent on the weather, any local funerals, road conditions, last-minute conferences and the current status of the harvest. So day by day, as planning and controlling become obviously fruitless, I relinquished some of that control. 

In the four years Luke and I were trying to conceive, we also had to let go a bit of the control, the dream, the "perfect timing" we had determined. We learned we weren't in control, and that God's perfect plan is, well, perfect. And when we found out we were expecting just a few days before leaving Zambia for home assignment, it was confirmed, once again, that God is in perfect, wonderful control. 

^^ That timing has nagged at us a bit, though. We find ourselves wondering why, exactly, we need to be in the US when this child is born. We've had friends tell us that they really feel there is a reason for this. And that's been a bit scary to think about. 

Six weeks ago, baby boy's anatomy scan showed that his kidneys were slightly enlarged. They said it was likely nothing to worry about, as this is very common with boys in the womb. Even so, they scheduled a followup sonogram for yesterday. His right kidney was in the normal range. But his left kidney was more than twice the size of the right. 

What that means - we're not exactly sure. We see a specialist tomorrow to get a more detailed scan. He is urinating and amniotic fluid levels are fine. Everything else is fine. But in this 48 hour period before seeing the specialist, mom and dad are not so fine. We've been told not too worry. It's common. It will likely correct itself before or shortly after birth. The follow-up is "just to be safe" and to determine if he's "high risk"…

Oh, please don't tell this mama-to-be that her baby may be high risk. Not after four years of waiting. Not after such an easy and healthy first six months. Not when you also tell me that there is absolutely nothing I can do differently to change the outcome. Nothing I can do? Really? So what do I do? 

Maybe it's nothing at all. Maybe it is. Maybe it changes everything. So, I've been fearful. Like stick-your-head-in-a-cereal-box-til-it-all-goes-away fearful. Mopey, schlumpy, "what-do-you-mean-there's-nothing-I-can-do?" fearful. This, combined with the slightly more reverent crying-out-to-God-in-desperation prayerful. 

Which got us thinking about Abraham and Sarah and Isaac.  They waited some 80 or so years for Isaac, and then had to be willing to give him up. Ultimately, God provided the sacrifice for them, as they were willing in faith to give Him their son.

"'Do not lay a hand on the boy," he said. "Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son."' - Genesis 22:12

Though God was there in the end, I can't imagine all that Abraham was thinking through the process. Lord, I don't want to go through that! I'm willing, I am. But, please... no. Not me. Sometimes I just don't want to be that example of faithfulness proven (or failed in a spirit of crazy fear). 

I do trust. He has proven Himself over and over in majestic, amazing, and sometimes frightening ways in our lives. And it's been for our good. Oh, how He is good. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I wriggle away and cry as I approach the refiner's fire. And I definitely don't want this sweet boy to face that flame. I mean, how did Isaac feel as Abraham tied him to the altar? Lord, I want to pray that if you put us through the fire, you at least spare our son. 


But then I look to the cross. I see the sacrifice of your Son. The fire He faced. And I feel selfish. Greedy. Ashamed. I think of Mary and the strength she must have had, and how she probably had very little idea what the precious baby in her womb would do for the world. And I know that You will give me strength for whatever may come. That You will hold me up when I have nothing else to stand upon. And I trust You. I do. But I'm scared. Forgive me for my fears.

And so now, I pray. The doctors say nothing I can do will change anything. But as I've learned in other times when I can do "nothing," I know I can pray. So I'm praying. And I'm sure I'll be praying every day of this child's life. Because as Chris Rice sings in the song I listened to this morning, Mama Prays:

"Mama prayed, and Jesus stood beside us

Daddy prayed, and the devil had to run

God looked down, and his angels guarded through the harder days

'Cause mama prayed, and daddy prayed."

Will you pray with us?

See the update here!