Another negative test. It had only been a few months but it felt like eternity. It was June and I had been done nursing my son since April but the process of getting pregnant again was taking seemingly forever. Guess I could learn a harsh lesson in patience. But each time I got the negative test, I told God I would trust in him. It hurt. I mourned. And then I purposed to move forward with hope. Knowing that God had a plan and it is greater than I can comprehend.
We have this cross that hangs in the prayer nook of our home. It is called our “Surrender Cross” and it is made by Rad Joy. On each cross, there are 3 etched lines that signify Father, Son and Holy Spirit. And there are holes in the cross where nails are placed. When there is a burden you are carrying, you write it on a piece of paper and physically nail in to the cross. It is an outward display of an inward change. I promised to cast my cares upon God and let the worry, doubt and fear be left at the cross.
So, one particular night when sorrow was at a height, I walked over to our Surrender Cross. I wrote down my burden:
“Not being pregnant.”
I stood there, tears rolling down my face and I nailed that little piece of paper to the cross and almost instantly felt the presence of God take me over and release me from the fear that had a grasp on me. I said, “Lord, I trust in you.”
Once August rolled around, it was yet again time to take another test. I went into it with no expectations. Trusting God with either result. And this time, I saw the double lines and my body fell to the floor as I wept and laughed and praised God in the most beautifully undignified way.
We could only keep our “surprise” from our other 5 kids for so long and we decided to share the news with them, and they were all ecstatic. That same evening, God opened up a conversation between us all about giving our lives to Christ and spending eternity in heaven with Jesus. Through that process, we were able to chat about our prayer nook and the Surrender Cross hanging there. I took down that piece of paper I had nailed to the cross that labeled my burden and tried to hold back my tears as I showed the kids the love of God and how He completely took all my worry and answered my prayers once I released the doubts to Him.
The glow in the kids eyes as they witnessed such a loving God who would give them another sibling… it was magical. And then something happened. My oldest daughter (who is 8) began crying. I asked her what was wrong and she said she had her own burden that she had been carrying throughout the day. Although she was overwhelmingly joyful about the news of her next sibling, she had a fear that was creating a fog over her mind.
You see, when I was growing up, my mother experienced 3 miscarriages. One of which was further along in the pregnancy to point where it actually looks like a little baby. I had the opportunity to see my baby brother or sister with my own eyes and I remember breaking down and weeping. I can remember exactly what that little baby looked like, so tiny and helpless… and lifeless. And that story has been told to my daughters as we’ve discussed Heaven. They know that they will have uncles and aunts that they will meet in Heaven one day that they’ve never met here on earth before.
And for some reason, the enemy had used these stories to bring fear to my daughter upon the news of her realizing another baby was growing in my belly. A sickening fear that the baby would die, just as some of my siblings had died while still in the womb. There was fear of the unknown and fear of the “what if’s.”
This opened the gates for a beautiful discussion about our faith in God and about His provision, purpose and plan for our lives. I knew that she needed to surrender. She wrote down her burden on one of those tiny pieces of paper and with her eyes filled with tears, she nailed her fear to the cross, took a deep breath and released it. I held her in my arms and we prayed together, and we prayed over the baby in my tummy. No more fear. No more worry. No more doubt. Just trusting in God. His beautiful hands wrapped around this precious baby and around the tender heart of my oldest daughter, protecting her from the lies of the enemy.
This was all a process in my faith walk. To be aware of the traps and deceit of Satan and to believe fully and wholly on the Word of God and HIS ways. They are so much greater than our own and this was such an incredible representation of faith in action. I praise God for teaching us in these moments. And for showing up so real when we chose to surrender it all to Him.
My life is a constant testimony. I don’t have a radical conversion story. I don’t have deep wounds inflicted that needed years of healing. But I struggle. I’m human. I sin. And I stand here with open arms, always ready for God to each me a new lesson, give me a fresh testimony of His grace and mercy and grow me into the woman He made me to be. My life is a constant testimony of His miraculous works in my life.
On Sun, Aug 20, 2017 at 2:07 PM, Meghan Joy Yancy <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote: