Friday: It was January 20, 1981--the day of Ronald Reagan's Presidential inauguration. I wasn't feeling well and kept an appointment with my doctor, who explained WHY I was feeling so exhausted--I was expecting a baby. I was taken completely off guard by this "news" because I already HAD a baby (Jesse) and he was only eight months old. The doctor suggested that we see if we could hear a heartbeat, and we did--a very clear, strong heartbeat. Hearing his heartbeat sealed the deal for me, which was a good thing because I cried many tears in those coming months from fear of our future. I also believed there are no "accidents" when it comes to God creating life, and I loved this baby inside of me just as I loved the one I already had.
Forty-five years ago today he was born on a Friday morning. He was perfect in every way. Eight pounds, 13 ounces, 18 inches, with just a tiny bit of soft reddish hair. He was born so quickly, it didn't even hurt.
There are many things I wish I could change about the years I had young children. I wish I had been wiser and stronger. I wish I had been more faithful to the Lord. I wish I had allowed the Lord to take complete charge of my heart so that it would line up better with His ways, His thoughts, His Word. But He is always faithful, even when I am unfaithful.
Each year now, my son's birthday comes and goes without any connection really. I can’t find words to describe the loss. I hope it isn’t painful for him, this lack of relationship. Perhaps he is better at it than I am, and I am glad he has a regular and happy connection with Dylan, Kelly, and their kiddos.
I know the Lord will accomplish His purposes in the lives of all of my family. He is perfect in all His ways—how wonderful He is--no wonder we can worship Him and give Him honor and praise.
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