I vividly remember being called to give my first son up before he even took his first breath on this earth. I sat on a hard, rough bench feeling the burden of carrying him inside. It was hot, the dust burned my eyes and the sound of African music boomed in my ears. My hands were busy holding an orphaned little one that we purposed to love and treat sweetly every Sunday we had the chance. As I fussed with the little guy filling up my lap my own little one was kicking me hard from the inside reminding me he was there as well. I will never forget sensing in my spirit that as real as the little one sitting in my lap so was the the tiny one fluttering in my womb. I was drawn to offer him back to the Lord. Not to give him over, but to give him back. He had first been the Lord's and I was only given the privilege of mothering him for as many years as the Lord determined. I knew that instinctively so it was natural for me to choose to give him back.
As I sat by my youngest sons bedside in a make shift hospital ward with his very bruised and broken body moaning next to me I once again was drawn to give a son back to the Lord. Feeling helpless, afraid and completely stranded I was brought to my knees. Nothing reminds us of our inability like helplessness.
Many things happen in innocence and naivity that you don't often understand the implications of until much later in life. For me the giving back of my boys to the Lord has been a continual process at crucial points over the last 15 years of mothering. None have been easy but they have all been sweet because I know that the Lord loves my children far more than I. So very often the crucial points of faith come when we see our utter despair and brokenness and know we have nothing left to give. God in His divine goodness has allowed me the honor of needing him desperately. I am so very grateful!