No Greater Love

 

                                                                    2.15.21

          

        Christian lies beside me, his soft body warm in the darkness, his small breathing the only sound to break the stillness. Yet another blessing to add to the list- yet another gift, priceless, timeless, and given as all the others were, through pain and sorrow and suffering. But what a gift, what richness, what a treasure beyond measure he is! Eighth child, fourth son- numbers do not diminish one jot of his uniqueness or the special space he inhabits in our family. Was he a planned child? Yes, most certainly, but not of my or his father's planning. None of them have been, but the evidence of a greater Plan looks out of each pair of dark eyes. God has been at work here; crafting with such subtle nuance, such boldness, such grace, even as I have wept and trembled and shaken in fear of yet another pregnancy, yet another foray into a 40 week wilderness. And for what does he work? For my earthly pleasure? For my pride? No, for his own glory, and what a gory glory it is, the way he rides roughshod over my preferences, over my comfort, over my fears! And yet, is not this what he promised me long ago? Because I live, you also will live. He lived, he feared, he sorrowed, he wept in a dark garden and whispered, "Father, let this cup pass from me". How human he was! And yet immediately- Not my will, but Thine be done. How long it takes me to echo that swift and humble submission. So often it takes me the full 40 weeks, the last sleepless night, the final bed of agony and I'm staring into those dark eyes again and I can finally say, Not my will, but Thine, be done. Never my will, Lord, for it is shortsighted and selfish, concerned only for my comfort and the praise of man. Your will, Lord, your good and perfect will. Be it unto me, thy handmaid, and may I have that greater, more perfect, love. 

Greater love hath no man than this, than he who lays down his life for his friend.  John 15.13