An Ineffectual God

Several weeks ago, I shared with my friends and family a blog post on the outcome of our pregnancy with our second-born daughter Alisa. I titled that post When God Says No, detailing our journey of prayer and faith for Alisa's life and health, finding out in the end that she does in fact have Down syndrome. What I did not anticipate was how our story would spread so quickly as a result of this blog post. Largely, the response was positive. Many of you could relate to our journey because you, too, have had a similar experience with your child, family member, or friend. Others responded because you were drawn to the honesty of praying to the Lord with desperate prayers, only to find in the end that He said "no" or answered in ways much different than you desired. Whatever the reason, God has used our journey to bring together thousands of people who have wondered at the mysterious ways of God's work in our lives. 

I was, however, contacted by some who did not resonate with my message of faith in a Supreme God who said "no" to my prayers. 

As we all look to a new year of new beginnings, may we wash in the cleansing of Christ and live each day for Him. Let us cast off the burdens of the past and embrace the hope of our future. May we chase the genuine life that is not encumbered by regret!

“What If”

To the Weak, He is...

Last week, I sat down with two therapists who were evaluating Alisa. "The good news," said one therapist, "is that she automatically qualifies for therapy. This evaluation is only a formality because of her disability." 

The good news.

Good news? It didn't feel like good news to me. I know in a sense this is a good news, because even though Alisa shows no signs of needing therapy at this moment, she will undoubtedly need it eventually. But good news? As a mom, I have to disagree. It certainly did not feel like good news.

The delicate pages crinkle beneath my clumsy fingers as I turn them. The sound of each page turning draws me inward to the story beckoning to be read. I breathe deeply the scent of leather and paper, the mixture of these smells filling my mind with memories of the countless times I have thumbed through these pages. My eyes fall upon the black letters. To some, they might seem to have no real value, just words on a page that tell a meaningless story. But to me, these words are life. They are sacred, they are ancient, and they are an invitation. To any that might dare tread upon deeper waters, these words draw us in to know the heart of God, the mind of Christ, the ways of the Spirit. “Taste and see that the Lord is good,” these words beckon.

Over the past six or so months, many of you have followed along and even walked with us on a very painful and very personal journey. In the beginning of June, Trey and I chose to publicly share the newsthat our unborn daughter had screened positive for Down Syndrome earlier in my pregnancy. What began last March as an exciting and "normal" pregnancy rapidly turned into a high risk and unpredictable pregnancy as complications arose. I was eventually hospitalized for nine weeks in order to allow our daughter Alisa the greatest chance for growth, health, and a full-term stay in my womb.

The morning before my induction at 38 weeks, I sat for the last time alone in my hospital room on the antepartum floor. Later that day, our family would fly in to join us as we prepared to welcome Alisa into our arms. Trey would come that afternoon to stay with me for the rest of our time at the hospital. As I searched my heart and feelings, I found myself facing a question that had surfaced many times throughout my pregnancy:

What if God says no?