I Was Made For This

It was my Grandfather that would announce my pregnancy to my family - even before I myself knew that I was pregnant. He called my Mother with such exuberance and joy, saying, “Janis is going to have a baby!” My mother in her shock didn’t reply quickly enough before he enthusiastically went on, “I could tell she was pregnant the moment she walked in the house, she looked just as your mother did when she was carrying you and your brother.

It would be days later that my son’s father and I would do a pregnancy test on a Sunday night, as a practice run before doing one first thing the next morning, as the test indicated that testing in the morning would provide the most accurate results. But, before the kitchen timer even went off, two blue lines boldly presented themselves.

After realizing for sure that I had fell pregnant, to my best calculations, I had begun feeling ill the morning after I conceived. There is a princess who has made the condition I suffered from a common household term - hyperemesis gravidarum- throughout nearly 8 months of my pregnancy I struggled. I had IV fluids because of dehydration, I dropped weight instead of gaining, and largely felt I might, instead of having life created within me, be instead dying.

My son’s Father was not the least bit pleased with this turn of events. It was not in our plan book of the way our life was to play out. We were to be married till I was about thirty, travel, and jet set to places people only dream of. 

He did not want a baby. Now. He did not want THIS baby.

And, all I knew was that this person that was probably no larger than a small seed, that could be sucked from my womb and deposited with some trash, was my very own child. And I was made to be its mother.

My mind constantly felt to God’s word, spoken in Psalm 127:3 which proclaims “Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb is a reward.”

Creation was growing within me. I was chosen. What a lightness of heart I had while enduring the heavy reality of a life’s circumstances.

I was living the gospel in the things that no one saw. I was making a sacrifice for my child, putting his value ahead of my own. What an amazing calling God put on my life by gifting me with this child.

Weeks later, under the care of a specialist for high-risk pregnancies - there were signs I might be carrying twins - a doctor would do an ultrasound, and I would learn that the dear sweet babe who was sharing my heartbeat was a boy.

God had answered a little girls prayers. A little girl who only played with doll babies, and those doll babies should they have long hair instantly were given boy haircuts because it was my deepest desire to be the mother of a boy. Even back when I was five and got my very first Madame Alexander doll who I named Joey John.

I fought for this child’s life. I was willing to give up everything to carry my child to term and give him life.

There were those people around me who were quick to say why I shouldn’t have him, how I could have prevented him, and that I surely wouldn’t be smiling after he was born and I had to give up my plans for the future.

He was of so little importance to some people but - I would lay down my life for him, and 29 years later I still would. I would give up everything.

Then, and even more so now, children rank below careers, and travel, and leisure. They rank behind a trim body and a vacation. They are disposable entities. 

Yet for me, motherhood was not some bump in the road in my dancing career or finishing my college degree. Motherhood was and continues to be a ministry God ordained me for. To carry a child He had chosen for ME to mother before the foundations of the earth. The babe who would grow to be a man and carry my DNA, handcrafted by God, and share it with future generations.

By giving birth to my son I was testifying that I valued what God values. Life. I was standing for the defenseless, and the unwanted. At this moment, I gave up my petty desires, and my often selfish motives and decided to live for someone other than me. I lay down my imaginary future and instead grabbed with gusto the future God had for me as a mother. 

It was no accident I fell pregnant when I did. This world needed the presence of my son, and God had pre-ordained his days.

In faith, I stepped out and lived the gospel in all the things that no one sees when you are a mother. I lived out the lesson of calvary and put someone’s life before my own.

Motherhood is a calling, and it is God who does the calling. It is not for the faint of hearted, as they say.

It is the testimony of our lives as Mothers and as Women that should weigh heavily on our hearts, that our children will come to know the Lord through our actions and our teachings.

As Paul writes to Timothy acknowledging the importance of his mother and his knowledge of God,  “. . . knowing from whom you learned it.” (2 Timothy 3:14 b) He is talking about Eunice and Lois, Timothy’s mother and grandmother. There are three clues that lead us to this understanding. First, Paul refers (in v. 15) to this learning as happening “from childhood.” Second, we see in 2 Timothy 1:5 these words, “I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well.” So Paul has already connected Timothy’s faith with what he got from his mother and grandmother.

Whether it is for a few short weeks or for the rest of your life God specifically places THE PERFECTLY CHOSEN CHILD IN YOUR LIFE for you to have a ministry. Whether through adoption or surrogacy or mentoring we are called to care for children, step into your calling, step into your ministry, claim God’s promises because you were born for this.