My sweet baby Ella was born 8 days ago. Sometimes I sit back and imagine that my little 8 day old baby is just sleeping in the other room. I want to be just like the other moms, who, when they start to miss their little baby, can peek their head into her room and watch her chest rise up and down. And if the baby happens to wake up while you’re watching, and starts to give those little cries, I want to really hear those little cries. I want to be able to come to her crib and scoop her up, wrapped in blankets and hold her close to me and rock her. I want her to know that with me, everything will be okay. I felt so helpless that day in the hospital, when I held her close to me, all wrapped up in blankets. I moved the too big bonnet away from her eyes, and rolled up her sleeves so that her hands would be free. I wrapped the blankets more tightly around her, but none of those things could bring her back. None of those actions could tell my little Ella that everything was going to be okay. It was too late. There was nothing I could do to save her.
On most days, I find myself inventing 20 new things that I could have done differently to protect my little one. I find myself constantly asking, “what if…” What if I had prayed for her more, what if I had read my Bible more, what if I had gotten mad less often, what if I had walked less, what if I had walked more, what if I had eaten better, what if I hadn’t gone on vacation, what if I hadn’t fallen in London, what if I hadn’t gotten so hot in Spain, what if I could have listened to her heart that day, what if I would have just known something was going to happen and done something! But then I realize, I am asking, “what if I was God?” God raised Jesus from the dead, God created Ella from nothing inside me, if He wanted her to be in my arms right now, He is perfectly capable of making that happen. Nothing that I did or didn’t do negated His ability to save her from death. I guess I have learned a lesson about parenting earlier than most. I have learned that although I am the mommy of Ella, I was the caretaker of Ella, I am the one who loves Ella, but I am not the savior of Ella (neither physically or spiritually speaking). God created each one of us, including our daughter Ella, for His glory and His joy. He has ordained our days before we were ever born (Ps. 139), and as a parent, as much as I strive to give the best to my daughter, and protect her from all harm and evil, whether 7 months in the womb, or 7 years on the earth, God is truly her provider and protector.
Rob and I were singing some songs the other night, and we came across a familiar one by Matt Redman:
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
I remember thinking about this song when I was standing on our balcony in Spain, waiting to hear from my midwife what we should do because Ella hadn’t been kicking. The last lines of this song, echoed from Job, ran through my head, “You give and take away; But my heart will choose to say, Lord, blessed be Your name.” I thought to myself, as I wrestled with building fear in my heart, “No, I don’t want to hear those words, those are the words that people say when they’ve lost something! I haven’t lost anything yet. I don’t want to say those words!” And I remember hearing God tell me, “Karen, trust me.” Okay, I’ll trust you, God. But soon I realized that trusting Him didn’t mean that Ella would be alive when I went to the hospital that night.
Then when we sang this song the other night, one of the verses stuck out to me,
“On the road marked with suffering; Though there's pain in the offering; Blessed be Your name.” I never thought about it before because I’ve never really given a painful offering. But when I sang the words this time, I realized the blessing of God’s name during suffering is painful, but even more painful, is the offering itself. For the first time, I saw that my little Ella, was an offering to God. It made Abraham’s offering of Isaac come alive to me. God demanded from us our first fruits, and so Ella was an offering to God. There is pain in this offering, but God’s name will be praised. Oh, the pain is so great! My heart only takes comfort in knowing that God chose us to offer a pleasing gift to Him. Her life is of great worth to Him. Bless our God for us little Ella!
In Memory of Ella Joy Kimmons
