Bear with me and watch this YouTube video. It's from a song called Love Song, by Third Day.
|May 29, 2012. Back home and chilling before lunch.|
Well, I hope you are not crying by now... I've also heard it said that mothers or fathers would give their own lives should they see their children are in danger. I am not sure about that. I just can't tell you I would really give my life for Elizabeth or for Baby. It is what it is. I want to think I would, and I actually cried over not knowing what I would do if Libby's life was in danger at delivery. One day I said I wanted to live instead of her, other day I said I would die for her even before knowing her.
I guess I will never know for sure unless I am faced with a situation where someone wants to take their lives. Do not take me wrong, I love her with all my guts, I just don't know if I would actually die for her.
"Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die" ~ Rom 5:7
This verse has to do with Jesus dying for us while we were still sinners. But it makes my point clear, I just don't know if I would dare to die for my daughter. But I do know Jesus died for me and for her, to give us life, life to the fullest. He cares for me, for every single detail in my life. Even the stupidest ones, because for Him, my worries or concerns are not stupid at all.
Wednesday was a day of trials. God never gives you anything that you are not ready to face, and even then, He won't give you more than you can hanlde. I guess He thought we were ready.
The day started slow. I was at my parent's house from 8 am to 5 pm. Emerson went to brew beer with his cousin, and came back to pick us up. We went to my sister's house to wait for Fili and a couple of my friends from college so we could go to eat tacos.
We left Libby with my mom and dad. I asked them to give her her bottle around 8:30 pm, and just sing some songs, just make her happy, and what not. I asked them to put her to bed by 9 pm tops. "Just let her cry in the pack n' play, but if it breaks your heart, rock her. Do whatever you want to do, but make her sleep, I won't be here."
We came back around 9 pm, and Libby had just fallen asleep. She was not in the pack 'n play, though. Mom said she cried every time she would feel the crib, and so she was lying on the bed. I knew my mom was in the bedroom with her, watching her, she said she would take care of her. And long story short, she fell.
As soon as I heard her crying, I freaked out. I was angry and scared. I yelled at my mom, "I told you, I told you!"
Was it my fault? I don't know. I am the mom, I should have put her in the crib, instead of relying in my mom watching her, but I didn't do it. I will not go there and dwell on what I should have done, because I have to control my thoughts. I know that if I go there, there will be a lot of darkness, and I am done with that. She fell, there is nothing I can do now.
She was covered in vomit when I had her in my arms. She vomited in my arms again. I, crying, screamed at my sister, "She is throwing up!!" I guess I gave my daughter to my sister, in hopes that she would do something, she is a doctor after all. I guess my scream meant more like, "Do something for her, please!"
And then, I just did the only thing I could do, I guess. I began praying. I dissapeared from that room. My mom was there, my sister, Emerson, my dad, my friend, but I turned my back on them facing the door, and I began saying over and over again, "God, please, please take care of my daughter. Heal her, Father, don't let anything happen to her. You are in control of this..."
I guess I repeated that so many times, it looked like or sounded like a spell. My mom tried to reach out to me, but Emerson didn't let her come near me. That was good, I know he didn't mean anything bad, it was just that listening to her at that moment wouldn't have helped me. But she continued reaching out. I don't remember much, but I do remember I lifted up my hand, like in a Don't-come-near-just-now-motion and told her, "Mom, there is nothing you can do about this. God is control of my daughter."
Elizabeth continued throwing up in my sister's arms, and fell asleep. We put everything in my friend's car, I came back to hug my mom, and said I was sorry for yelling at her. I said I got scared, but she wouldn't let me come near her. What the heck? Probably her own issues. Anyway, we never insulted anybody, we never disrespected anyone. We didn't say anything AT ALL that we would later regret. And then, we left.
I talked to Emerson about this night just recently. He said he had never felt so angry, but at the same time he had never been able to control himself the way he did. He said when he is angry he likes his anger to explode. I guess that's very human. I am proud for his self control, but I totally understand that being led by the Spirit doesn't feel like freedom at all most of the time.
Jesus said that if we hold to his teaching, we would be his disciples. Only then, we would know the truth, and that truth would set us free. I don't know if i ever talked about that sermon Andy Stanley taught on this. He said that many things don't feel like freedom at the beginning when we do them. He talked about his teenage years where everybody was having sex except him. But now he is free. He remained a virgin until he got married. He is free from many thoughts he could have had.
He also talked about when you do not get into debt, and save money, and tithe. It doesn't feel like freedom not being able to buy anything you want or going on vacation, but Andy said that he is now enjoying a standard of living his college peers are not, only because they chose not to be self-controlled in their spending.
Anyway, the ride to the hotel was awful. There was complete silence. I was in the back of my friend's car watching my baby's face. Shucks... I'm crying just now. I kept on asking God to heal my daughter, but then I stopped. And here it is where my story turns weird, because instead of offering my life for hers, like I thought I would if she was in danger, I just offered my daughter's life to God.
I asked God if He remembered the night Libby was born. Obviously He did. DUH!
I reminded Him of what I had said that night. That night I thanked Him for blessing us with her, I told Him I knew she was not ours, but His. I told Him I knew she was our gift from above and that our job was to train her to love Him, but that I was fully aware that her life wasn't mine. I told Him it hurt to realize that baby I had carried for nine months was not really mine, and that I knew one day she would leave to have a life of her own. That night I also told Him I loved her and Jesus with all my heart.
In my friend's car, I asked for His healing over my daughter one more time, but then I told him that if it was in His will not to heal her, I was okay with that. How could I do that? I don't know. It feels really weird. I actually told Him that I wasn't feeling like an Abraham, and that Libby wasn't my Isaac, either, but that He was all I knew. He could either heal her or not. I just wanted His will. Of course I wanted my daughter to be okay, but I told Him I felt at peace if He decided to take her with Him.
Now, let's get a break.
When someone dies, people sometimes dramatize death by saying that God took that person away from them. When I say that I was at peace with that, I am not dramatizing, nor did I dramatize in the back of the car. I was just consciously aware of the fact that there is a beginning and an end to everybody's life. And I was ready to face the end of my baby's life, if that was God's will for her. I was honestly ready. I mean, I was scared for how she had vomited, although my sister said it was probably because of her milk she just had had. She said accidents happen. Yes, they happen. But until she becomes a mother, she won't understand what I felt.
I told God I was confused, and that I didn't understand why He would let this happen. But at BSF this year, they made clear to me plenty of times (God did it through His Word) that there is nothing that happens in this life without Him knowing it. There is not a trial that we go through, that He has not allowed to come into our lives. And if He has let that happen, it is because there is a purpose.
That night in the back of the car I also told Him that I didn't understand the purpose of this, but that I knew there was one, and I still believe there was one. I just don't know what the freaking purpose is or was!
I felt His voice telling me that she was going to be okay. That my baby would be okay. He said to read Psalm 92. I'll post that Psalm later. But I believed what I had heard. I felt that peace that transcends all understanding and guards your heart and your mind in Christ Jesus :))
Anyway, we got to the hotel, we changed Libby's diaper, and let her sleep in the dirty pajamas. By this time it was almost 12 am.
And that's it for now. I won't make this post longer. The "worst" was yet to come.