I’m unsure of how to express all that I feel, but I know you see all that resides within my heart. You see my longings and my fears, my gratitude and my restlessness. Within my heart are the questions to which you alone have the answers. Will you allow our third baby to grow? How long will this baby live? Can I emotionally survive another loss, if you so choose? You know, Lord. And that has to be enough for me. Please, help my heart to rest in you—the Creator and Sustainer of life.
Creator. You are the God who created all things. You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you for opening my womb and creating life again where death has reigned. I praise you for this tiny life I already love so much, despite my honest and shameful efforts to not grow attached. Thank you, Lord, for the gift of carrying this baby for however many days you have already decided.
Sustainer. Yes, that’s who you are. All things hold together in you. No life can continue without your hand making it so. So Father, I pray that you would sustain the life of our baby. I’ve been here before, begging with a tearful face, buried in the carpet. And I’ve witnessed your gentle “no.” I recognize you are sovereign, wise, and good, and you will only choose the absolute best path for our lives. I trust you. Because this baby is a gift and every gift comes from above, I realize that I am but a steward. I have no claim on this baby. I cannot move your hand with my “righteousness” or my “faithfulness.” or lack thereof. Your plan is fixed. And that is a beautiful truth to cling to in the face of fear.
Lord, I’ve seen so much good come from the heartache of losing our first two unborn children. You’ve drawn me near and used my story in the lives of women across the world. I can’t fathom your ways and your goodness. So though I pray that this baby’s life will flourish in my womb and beyond, I also submit to your good will. Father, if it glorifies you the most and brings about the most good, you can have this baby. Who am I to say you can have what’s already yours? I know. I recognize how utterly ridiculous that statement sounds. But I voice it to display my submission to whatever you choose. I say it to myself moment after moment to remind my hands to stay open—to cling to the Giver and not the gift.
If you choose to give and take away again, I only ask that you hold me fast. Keep me close. Please guard my heart from bitterness, isolation, anger, and depression. I have no strength within my own heart to walk further into the dark season we’ve been facing. Only through your strength can I prove faithful. I know and I trust you’ll meet us there if you take us there.
In the meantime, help me to rejoice over this little one each day. Help me to remain thankful. Help me to trust you with each step.
Lord, I need you. Every hour I need you.
In Jesus name, Amen.