Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father
There is no shadow of turning with Thee
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be
Great is Thy faithfulness, great is Thy faithfulness
Morning by morning new mercies I see
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me

Single digits. I’ve longed for this place and somehow still doubted it at times, yet here we are. So close to meeting our littlest babe and so far along this journey that began long before a positive test. This sweet baby hasn’t just been growing in me since November. He or she was planted in my heart way, way back and so long ago. Four. I’ve always felt called to four babies, always trusted for God to grow our family to the number He has placed on my heart. But then, I’m human, and after losses and waiting and grief and more waiting, I started to doubt the very thing I believed God had set in my spirit. It’s strange what pain will do to our faith sometimes.

Instead of doubting God, I doubted myself. Did I hear incorrectly? Had I not been listening? Maybe what I thought was true actually wasn’t, and maybe I needed to settle down into the reality that was in front of me. Three babies here with us. Three beautiful babies that are all incredible gifts from God, and certainly worthy of my attention and delight. I started to work at being at peace with three. But I still prayed and asked God to make a way. Countless times, I’ve prayed. I asked God to take the desire from me if it shouldn’t be there, and I asked for a fourth baby in our home at the same time. I prayed for my heart to be open to a future that looked different than my own picture–I pleaded to be content with what I already had.

And God did that in me. He did that in me because He is merciful and good. I didn’t stop wanting a fourth baby here, but I did start to feel a lightening in my spirit to trust the story, to release my hopes more freely, to live into where I was being called in the here and now. I pictured myself opening up my fingers and letting sand pour through them so many times. I practiced letting go in my real life while I visualized letting go and surrendering to the One who knows best. I did this all imperfectly and still wanted to hold it…wanted to control it. But His story is always better than the one we write on our own.

So I watched our babies grow. I celebrated the fourth birthday of our youngest to the full and tried to soak in every last ounce of babyhood I thought we’d see in our family. I had to push past thoughts of deep-seated hopes and arrive at place where I could embrace everything just as it was. That felt like a weighty task, and then sometimes, like a weight lifted. It was a growing season for me in a new way. We entered the fall of last year in the midst of a pandemic, with heartache all around us, and I was finding my way through to a place of embracing a new stage where our children were all arriving at self-sufficiency. I thought about *finally* writing that book…maybe looking for new creative opportunities…homeschooling and volunteering and kiddo shuffling and stepping into something I hadn’t done before. But then.

A dream. Symptoms that struck me as strange for a random November. Those lines. The ones that seemed impossible and unlikely were showing up on the test on the window sill of the bathroom and I thought maybe I was reading it all wrong. God has a way of doing things outside of our line of vision and it turns out it’s the best way I never thought to imagine.

This has been a journey, for sure. Nine months and I know that the story and the gifts and the miracles of this chapter are only just beginning. I hope that I’ll never forget my dependency on God in these months. I hope I’ll never waver from needing His presence here with me as I have since last fall. Surrender. Doubt. Trust. Hope. Fear. Peace. Repeat. It’s been so much richer than the “easier” path I thought I wanted. So much harder. So much better. And here we are at just about 39 weeks, and while I’m still juggling the same blend of emotions I’ve held in the balance all this time, I’m juggling them less. There’s more right balance to them. God has taught me even more about who He is, about His heart. I’ve learned just how much we’re called to live in community and to lean on the prayers and faith and shoulders of others, and how much it takes a village long before babies are ever born. Every last prayer. Every last intention. Every last dream or vision shared with me along this road. It’s something for the books, I’d say, and that’s why it has to be written here. Our little honeybee has had me on a journey I didn’t know I deeply needed. I’m still on it, and I still need it, and it’s so beautiful to me how God keeps showing up.

Surrendering the details of the coming days again tonight, I am thinking of the words to the hymn above and resting in how true they are. Great is Thy faithfulness, Oh God my Father…Thou changes not, Thy compassions they fail not…all I have needed Thy hand has provided…Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.

MM