The Still Small Voice

Recently, a friend reminded me of a verse in the New Testament that is significant to me:

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (Romans 12:1).

Allow me to back up a bit and explain.

I learned that I was carrying a child three days before Christmas in 2019–but before I took any drugstore test, or had the faintest traces of morning sickness, I knew that I was pregnant.

The weekend before I took a home pregnancy test, I attended church. I noticed in the sanctuary that children surrounded me. It was as if they all descended upon the seats in my vicinity. It was unusual, to say the least.

It wasn’t until after the service, however, that God spoke to me in a more powerful way. There were more children–and I had never seen any kids at this church, holiday or not. Toddlers were dancing around me outside. I could not move because they were encircling me–twins. Other babies. Everywhere. My soul stirred.

“Lord?” I asked within.

And God, knowing the deepest desires of my heart–to be a mother, whispered, “Yes.”

My spirit leapt with joy and anticipation. I knew I was going to have a child.

Much like baptism by water, motherhood is a baptism in its own right.

I experienced early labor for two weeks in August of 2020, and after I was admitted to the hospital, I labored for another 24 hours. My baby would not descend, and I was physically exhausted. I felt the life draining out of me as I pushed and pushed and nothing happened. 

The nurse, brusque and efficient, simply told me to dig deep. I asked my son’s father to pray as I knew I needed God in that room. A few minutes later, I said weakly. “Play the song.” It was a hymn that I listened to throughout my pregnancy: “In Christ Alone.”

No guilt in life, no fear in death, this is the power of Christ in me. From life’s first cry to final breath, no power of hell or scheme of man can ever block me from his hand.

My eyes filled with tears as the nurse reminded me to bear down with all my might.

With the music on, I realized that I was holding back: my body was so weak, I felt incapable of mustering the energy to push this child from my womb. I believed that I might die. But, I knew, as the hymn reverberated through the room, that I could do this for my son. I could lay down my life for my baby. I let go of all my fears and drew from the last reserves of energy in my body: “No fear in death, this is the power of Christ in me.”

The nurse became excited. He’s crowning! In a blur, the room filled with staff.

My son was born, healthy and strong, and was cleaned and swaddled and placed in a bassinet. However, shortly after he was born, I lost consciousness. I half-woke, with no sense of time or place, to staff shouting my name, and in a delirious blur, I mumbled, “I dreamed I had a baby.”

I was returned to the bed and given oxygen. I had lost more blood than the doctor realized, and I needed a blood transfusion. Eventually, my heart rate stabilized, and a few days later, I was discharged.

However, there were other complications: I was hospitalized again a week after I delivered, requiring an emergency surgery. Two days later, I returned to the ER with arrhythmia. The doctors believed I could be going into heart failure, although they didn’t tell me this until after an MRI of my heart and chest as I sat for hours in various rooms and beds in the hospital with no idea of what was happening to me.

The doctors determined that I was severely dehydrated, and I was pumped full of IV fluids and discharged, for the third time, 12 hours later. 

The journey to feeling physically normal again took a long time, and a pandemic-plagued world amplified everything challenging about healing. 

However, I would do it all again in an instant. My little boy is the light of my life, and his life is so much more precious to me than my own.

It wasn’t until my son was born that I understood what it meant to gladly become a living sacrifice.

I delight in him every single day, and he is the best thing that ever happened to me: ordained by his Creator. He has changed me profoundly, and I am not the same woman I was before his birth. My son has taught me what it truly means to be willing to lay down one’s life for his friend. And I am forever grateful to him for making me a mommy.