When I get an inkling of what God is up to in my world, I don’t usually laugh.
Usually, to my shame, it’s more like, you want me to WHAT?
Or, how are you going to swing that one (oh Creator of the Universe, Lighter of Stars, Spinner of Planets, Author of Life, Ruler of Heavenly Kingdom…oh yeah).
Worst, it’s the whisper of blessings to come and the swift roaring in my head of the Accuser. No, not for you. Why would He do that? You aren’t holy enough/worthy/gracious/obedient/cute enough for that. No, not for you.
So I think about Sarah and I sympathize. If I were her age, and I still didn’t have any babies, the possibility of a nation coming from my old, wrinkled, weathered body would be too much for me to think about too. It would hurt if I believed it for even a second, and it didn’t happen (and why would it happen, when for so many years I’d waited).
But the whispers of blessings to come creep up on me, still.
The Blessing of Asher. Asher, the last one. Asher the name that pops into my head when I’m not really thinking. Matthias. George. George? I have a great – great-grandfather named George and I’d forgotten that was his name.
Who are these people?
When you want more little people in your world, and you don’t have them yet, hope is scary. Wanting is scary. I can’t plan because in my fleshy and stubborn heart I have accepted (most days) that it isn’t up to me.
If I hope, and keep hoping, how much would disappointment hurt?
On the other hand, isn’t this the same God who gives me peace to accept so many more awful things than not having six children when I’d like to have six children? Isn’t this the God who keeps the ones I do have in excellent care, surrounding them with angels and minding their every step?
Is it selfish to want more, when I already have so many? It’s understandable because frankly my children are wonderful. They are blessings uncountable. I see the fingerprints of God, on every one of them.
I look at them and I think, I want to bring up more servants and warriors for my God. I want to serve as a mother, I’m not done serving in this way. Is it my heart? That thing – I don’t trust.
Somewhere in the calm and quiet of my soul, I hear whispers of little people. Are they going to be mine? I don’t know yet. Maybe they will be in my life in other ways.
Sarah must have looked at all the women around her (and there are so many beautiful new babies in our church, and so many more on the way it is just wonderful and amazing and exciting and I get happy just thinking about it). She must have thought, do I have one of these in there somewhere?
How amazing, to go quietly to rest and peace and her God knowing that even though she only had one child of her own, through His Grace an entire nation would call her mother. I don’t know why He made her wait so long, maybe there is some grace in there that I do not understand because being the mother of an entire nation is a pretty big blessing.
Until I know, I will continue to pray: O Lord, my Lord, keeper of my children. It is my fond desire to serve you in raising more babies. It is my fond desire to bring more life into the world. You have regarded the lowly state of your handmaiden, how I struggle and worry and become anxious when you have already blessed me so much. Please be the keeper of my heart, and my mind, and give me the peace to accept your will. Thank you for protecting my babies and my family and my home. And if you do have an Asher or a Matthias or a George (or all three), O Lord, I would be happy to see any or all of them.