In my first Wisdom Wednesday post, "Why Homeschool Dawn?", I shared my Christian testimony. A few weeks later I wrote "Harvest Time" in which I revealed the greatest lesson I learned as an inner-city teacher. The next month I continued the chronology of my life's lessons in "The Strong Tower." In it I wrote about how God's sovereignty became my resting place as I faced the challenges of infertility and miscarriages. After reading these posts, a few of my bloggy friends sent me e-mails asking for the rest of the story. I will probably dedicate a few more posts to this series of testimonies, but for now, here is the next installment.
After the doctor had the dreaded talk with us, Michael and I decided we were not ready to begin fertility testing. We had been told that things did not look good for us and that we should be prepared for the worst. We knew that would require extra measures of grace. The school year had just begun, so we committed to spend the year praying for that grace and focusing on the work to be done at our schools.
I taught third grade at DES, Dilapidated Elementary School. No, that is not its real name but the pseudonym I have given it in order to protect the innocent. DES was in one of Memphis's poorest neighborhoods, not far from the Mighty Mississippi. It was a "best practices" school. That probably is not what immediately comes to mind when you think "inner city" and may come across as a bit pretentious. It's really just a term used in education circles to indicate a dedication to looking beyond oneself. We sought out what was working at other successful schools, not just in our district but nationally.
Before Christmas break our school decided to adopt a program widely used in the New York Public Schools, specifically at primary schools in Manhattan. A team of five teachers was chosen to go to NYC and observe schools using the program. I was selected as a member of the team.
We arrived in Manhattan in late January and spent a week and a half observing and taking notes. About mid-way through our stay, I experienced dizzy spells. My colleagues said it was probably from riding the subway and elevators. That might seem silly, but I do get motion sickness and am afraid of heights. However, I thought I was getting an ear infection.
Once back home, I went to the doctor expecting to be given a prescription for antibiotics but received prenatal vitamins instead.
What a great day it was when I held BT in my arms. He was born without any problems, full of life. Everyone had a different response. There was laughter. There were tears. Michael jumped around the delivery room, smiling from ear to ear.
All I could do was hold BT and feel the comforting presence of the Lord. It had been an arduous journey, filled with heartache. But, He had been with me every step of the way. His will had been accomplished in losing and in receiving. And I was fully aware that the gift of this little baby was His alone to give. Just as Hannah rejoiced in God's Sovereignty after the birth of Samuel, my heart sang, "There is no one holy like the Lord. There is no God but you. There is no Rock like our God." 1 Sam 2:2
People often ask me what happened. Did the doctors know what had caused the previous miscarriages? Had we opted for a particular therapy? At that time, however, there was no medical explanation, only the knowledge that as our Sovereign God willed, "the woman who was unable to have children, now had seven." 1 Sam 2:5
Well, at least three… two, possibly more, in heaven and one in her arms.