As I opened my eyes Saturday morning in a hotel room in Houston, Texas, I heard Father begin whispering to my heart, “Hey girl, instead of turning on the finale of Top Chef that you'd planned on finishing, let's chat a bit.”
Knowing I had been entrusted with the hearts of a room full of women later that morning at the church that brought me in, I quickly shut my computer, pulled my covers up close around my chin, and cuddled in close to the chest of my Father.
He started by telling me how much He loved me, as always. He began by igniting my heart with the tangible reality of His presence and touch—so strong and so pure, that I thought I might burst inside. And from this place of His presence, my mind began to go on the usual journeys we go on together—handing over the reigns of my heart and mind to steer me wherever He wanted to lead me.
After a few minutes, out of left field, I was hit with the overwhelmingly strong thought…….
I am having a baby boy.
I sat up in bed. Surely not. I mean, I was so confident I was going to have a little girl. My son Moses kept calling the baby growing in my belling his ‘baby sissy,' I had grown accustomed to the usual feelings I had encountered while growing my little girl Luca Gold for 9 months before she had gone to be with Jesus. And though I had been wrong about both children's gender, this time, I had been so sure.
Where was this thought coming from? Is this you, Lord?
My mind began to wander, ponder, and roll with the emotional tide.
But what if I am having boy? I haven't even entertained that thought, and I wouldn't want to be blindsided at the ultrasound fast approaching, just three days away. If I am having a boy, of course I wouldn't be disappointed—my son Moses is my greatest joy in life, and boys always really love their mama.
But what IF?? Is my heart ready for that?
For a good twenty minutes, my heart and mind stirred with this new reality of having a little boy. It wasn't that I didn't want a boy or wouldn't be over the moon that Moses would have a brother to play with—it was just that for over two years, my arms had been ready and aching to hold the little girl whose body went lifeless and cold far too soon. I had boxes of delicate, dainty pink clothes ready to be filled with life, empty daydreams of a little delicate face that I longed to make memories with.
I called my husband, Babe, I think I was wrong. I think God told me we're having a boy.
I texted closest friends, I think I was wrong—I'm pretty sure it's a boy.
As we walked into the women's imaging center this past Tuesday morning, my heart was ready. I had sat with this information soaking in deep for four days, getting excited about this new reality—completely over the moon about giving Moses a brother, filling my world with more trucks and trains, and having another little boy.
Let's do this, Babe. I sat down on the table with a heart that would not be disappointed, no matter the outcome. I was carrying life….and there was no greater gift of redemption that a family could receive after premature death.
As you can see…..I definitely hadn't ‘heard from God.' And I've never been happier to have missed something in my entire life.
(The silence you hear when she announces “It's a girl,” is the moment Luke and I looked at each other….bursting into silent tears. BEST MOMENT EVER.)
Old Christa would have flogged herself repeatedly for the blunder. Old Christa would have started doubting her ability to hear God's voice clearly—retreating back in fear next time I thought I tried to hear His voice. Old Christa would have felt like a failure, moving into striving for spiritual maturity.
But man, I love this Christa who is so in tune with her heart these days.
Thank you, heart, for loving me so much that you worked so hard to keep me safe. Thank you, beautiful heart, for doing such a good job of taking care of me that you didn't want me to be disappointed—wanting me to get ready for any news. Heart, you've been so disappointed this year with so much loss, and I want to be so patient and delicate with you as you heal. Heart, I know you're still patching up from the stings of death, and I'm so proud of you for fighting for healing and intimacy with Jesus at all cost.
“Courage, dear heart.” -C.S. Lewis
Instead of feeling betrayed by my heart, I felt so loved by it. Instead of feeling like a failure, I felt like a total success. Because I'm learning to finally listen to the language of my heart—-the emotions, cries, struggles, words, and decisions—I'm seeing that everything that pours out of me simply points to what's already inside.
And this situation simply pointed to the fact that my heart was still trying to protect me and might need a bit more time with the Healer.
(Sidebar….do you need to stop condemning your heart today for being wounded, and instead, thank your heart for working so had to keep you safe? Of course, the goal isn't to remain wounded, but the ownership of the wound is the starting point of your healing! Be kind to yourself today, dear one. Pregnant or not, there is always new life growing within you.)
Luke, Moses, and I are still pinching ourselves after receiving the news of our little pink package yesterday. I love putting my hand on my belly, tears running down my face, and talking to my little girl—the one who knows her sister Goldie since they were in heaven together at the same time. In fact, because everything my Father does in His kingdom is relational, I'm wondering if Goldie had a hand in picking her out for us. I wonder if she'll look like her sister, with dark black curly hair, or maybe golden hair like her big brother Moses…..
I could burst just thinking about it.
As Father continues to weave our redemption story, I can't help but live completely astounded. He's a master of details, a writer of poetry, the author of adventure. And as our hearts continue to heal, and as our lives are locked into His safety, we sure are excited about the gift He gave us within my womb.