For the Babies

Two precious stones surprised our family with their presence last week. They are not my own, but precious to me nonetheless. Still tiny, sheltered inside the growing haven of their mother, they beat along. A plan set out for them already; His plan. One so perfect and so well thought through that every hair on their little heads already has a number. He already knows their names, and long before we knew there were two, He knew. He holds them in His hands, knitting their lives together with more tenderness and love than we could ever hope to  shower on these babies. And while they kick and wiggle, He is creating their world and turning another one upside down.

These beautiful children, identical and yet completely unique, they are a heartbreaking blessing. Because along with the surprise of two lives where only one was expected came unexpected complications.

While most parents hope their babies hearts’ grow bigger, these parents watch the screen each day in hopes of it being smaller. Instead of dreading the idea of making it all the way to 40 weeks, this mom just wants her babies to make it to tomorrow. Every day a roller coaster, they face an impossible crossroads of being excited for one baby’s improvment that day and terrified of the other’s dips.

And I watch this paradox. One world so small, delicate, and new. Another so frightening, overwhelming, and exhausting. And they’re colliding full force, each whirling into the other’s universe ready or not.

Somehow it just never works out how we think. No one pictures their first pregnancy ending in loss. No one expects the life-altering accident, the cancer card, the paycheck that doesn’t show up. Those are all things that happen to other people. Until it happens to you.

Struggling twins were not on the radar screen for this sweet family. But the Maker holds them all. In the midst of crisis, He is there. From day one He planned it out, choosing this man and this woman to be their parents, selecting these babies out of every other to be in this moment. And though the experience feels painful and confusing, through it the Maker is weaving their stories. Building a family for His kingdom, making hearts after His own. In all of this ash, He is making beauty and no matter how the story turns out, that is something to celebrate.

Someday not long from now I hope to hold these sweet children in my arms, to relieve their weary–and happy–parents. But until then I pray Psalm 30:11-12 over this family.

You turned my crying into dancing, You removed my sadness and clothed me with joy. That my heart my sing to You and not be silent. Oh Lord my God, I will praise you forevermore.

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