Thursday, April 30, 2015

Woven

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,


    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
 Your eyes saw my unformed body;

 

 


    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.
Psalm 139:14-16
 
Not a single thing in all of my existence as a new creation in Jesus has lit a fire under my soul's rear like the role of mother. I couldn't have had the relationship with Christ I do, without my three, little nuggets. Each birth brought a different lesson for my heart and each joy, struggle, storm and laugh along the way is used to shape me for His glory.
 
Goodness, I couldn't have fully appreciated these words without seeing that first ultrasound; without holding that fresh, warm, soft newborn in my arms. I cannot, will not ever be able to describe that joy. And because of that feeling, that fierce love, I can understand just a minute amount of the love Christ has for us.
 
He sees us. He formed us (especially those who are handicapped or deemed "different") PERFECTLY for His master plan. He makes no mistakes. Nope. He sure doesn't.  Because He is perfectly sovereign. Doesn't matter, dear one, what the heck you've done or what the world tells you of your worth. Oh, you are so loved. You were INTRICATELY woven together by the Creator of the world. Oh yes, you are here for a Mighty purpose.

To the ones who have carried that precious life in their womb and never had the chance to experience life with that soul this side of Heaven, and for those who had to return their child (0-80 years), to the arms of God, too soon for the human heart to comprehend-I'm broken for you. I cannot fathom the grief you must feel as the world keeps spinning, with your heart suspended out there-forced to keep moving.

To the woman with a barren womb, how could I even understand? How could I, a mother of three, even utter comforting thoughts your way? I cannot, other than to say that there is a Great Comforter that can provide peace that surpasses understanding. The peace would have to surprass understanding, wouldn't it? Because your arms ache so bad for something so many treat as "common place" or "insignificant." I say, here, you aren't forgotten by me and NEVER forgotten by God.
 
Then, you know, there are so many women who are hurting out there because they find themselves in a society that says the child they are carrying will throw them off, mess them up, or that they just won't  be able to "handle it." Some of those women now grieve because they made the choice they thought was right and now the "would haves" come and go-birthdays, dances, and other  rites of passage aren't forgotten. Man alive, I hurt for those women. I can't imagine the heartache. If you are that woman, I sure love you and I'm just a piddly, little grouchbag. Broken heart, The Creator loves you so beyond what you can ask or even imagine.  Trust this big sinful disaster when I say that there is literally nothing you have done that can separate you from the love of Christ. He is there waiting.
 
And the teenage mom, who is scared out of her gourd. Girl, my heart is so huge for you. So big, that I often dream of having a place, a BIG place, for you to come stay. To be safe, loved and cherished. To be encouraged and helped along the way because you and your precious babe is so worthy of love.
 
I didn't realize where this post was going before I sat here to peck it out. What a mix of emotions. Gratitude, that God is who He is and He never, ever changes. That He makes no mistakes and He has a plan (numbered the days, even) just for me. Just for you, too. Humility, that He might offer me children to open my eyes to His love as a Father. Brokenness, for those who can't or haven't yet tasted the goodness of Jesus. Sad, for those mamas who grieve the loss of their babies and for the ones, still, who are feeling hopeless in real-time. And HOPE, for those who find Christ out there in the feeble hands and hearts of those who serve Him here on earth.
 
He made us not for this world, that superficially builds us, wrecks us, and forgets us--He made us for Him, to be infinitely loved and a part of His daily family affairs.

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