Holding on tightly

In my "free" time, I spend time following several blogs. There are a few brides I follow, a few doctors and nurses, and a few of some friends.

And then there are the blogs that make me cry everytime.

They are the blogs of mothers who have lost a child either at birth or immediately after birth. These are moms (and dads) who learned during their pregnancy that the child they were carrying was not going to live. And all were told that terminating the pregnancy was in their best interest. And all of them chose to continue their pregnancy because they knew that God was the giver--and taker--of life. He alone ordained the number of days (or minutes) that each child was to live.

The blogs that I follow are of women who are passionately in love with their Jesus. Though they planned for a loss, they hoped for a miracle. They alone knew that Jesus, despite all the heartache, was good. They knew that Jesus, despite what they felt, really only wanted good for them.

And I am amazed and in awed and convicted.

You see, I hold onto everything a little too tightly. All the good in my life and all the joy in my life is an underserved gift from God.

My children (notice I said MY children) are a gift from God. And I hold onto them tightly. As a mother, it's impossible not to.

But, these incredible, precious gifts from God still belong to God. He has loaned them to me. If He asked for them back right now, you know what I would say?

NO.

It's not because I don't trust Him with my girls.

Because I do.

But it's because I love them and want them here with me.

As a believer, I know that I am in good company. Nobody I know would willingly give up her husband or her child.

My prayer is that, whatever the circumstances, I would always be able to say that "God is good."

A few weeks ago, we went through a scary medical time with Luke. He woke up with numbness in his right arm. His speech, though clear, was also very slow. I initially laughed at him (nice wife that I am), but then I checked his cranial nerves and determined he was "fine" (don't ya love how I'm still in nursing school and making huge, important diagnoses). As the morning went on and he still was unable to grasp a fork, I realized that there was potentially something else going on. I took him to the ER where a whole slew of tests was run, including a CT and MRI.

They all came back clear of anything acute--so, no stroke.

His numbness, however, did not really improve. So a few days later, he went to his doctor. His doctor had no clue, but wanted to do some blood work on Luke.

One of the tests he ordered was an ANA--a test used to check for auto-immune disorders.

Such as multiple sclerosis.

My world literally crashed around me at that moment in time. I went from laughing at Luke (again, I know that wasn't the most sensitive of me) to fearful. I am known to go about 100000000 steps ahead and started wondering about little things--would we have to move and buy a ranch? Would this be the end of his dream for a Mustang?

Would we be ineligible to adopt?

Would he get a complication and leave me on this Earth alone to raise our children?

Yes, my mind went far ahead of where it needed to.

But, as I spent time in prayer, I realized the following:
1) God was still God, regardless of my fears
2) God was still good, regardless of the diagnosis

Thankfully, Luke was able to get into a neurologist who determined that Luke slept funny and did some nerve damage to his arm. It's not permanent, though it could take some time to completely heal.

And it was at that moment that I realized how tightly I hold onto the things thatI hold dearly. Everything is but a vapor.

My prayer is that as I grow in faith, I come to realize that "The Lord gives and the Lord taketh away; blessed by the name of the Lord."

You see, the reality of our time on this Earth is that it is marred by sin. Sin has tarnished every part of this Earth.

And that is where the miracle of Christmas comes into place. God wanted to redeem us and bring us back to Him. So He sent Jesus to come to this Earth as a baby.

Without Bethleham, there wouldn't be a Calvary.

And without Calvary, there wouldn't be a Resurrection.

And without a Resurrection, there wouldn't be Hope. There wouldn't be Joy.

No matter what happens on this Earth; no matter what I lose; God will give me the grace I need for that moment.

And He will still be good.