In 2003 I had come through a time of sin and had just gotten "right" with the Lord when I found out I was pregnant by the man whom I had been with before getting "right with God." At first my ex wanted to get married even though I had broke up with him on the basis of I wasn't living for Christ and needed to be. When I found out I was pregnant with this child I knew I wasn't going to get an abortion but had no idea what to do. My family was incredibly unsupportive and pushed me away. I was alone and homeless and pregnant and desperately trying to seek Gods will for my life and the life of this unborn child.
God eventually brought me to a maternity home where I experienced what I call "God's accelerated growth plan." My time there was full of transformation and as we all know change can be very painful. During my time there I looked into "my options" as a young unprepared pregnant woman but nothing seemed to fit. I was scared to parent but adoption felt like I was rejecting my baby and I feared the pain that seemed to be involved. While I sought God daily and even hourly at times, I still wasn't sure what to do. All I knew was that I ended up in this "mess" because of doing things my way and I knew I didn't want to screw things up anymore.
I walked along a creek path one day and through tears got on my knees and imagined that my current situation was in my hands and I lifted my hands into the air and let go. When I opened my eyes I was compelled to reach into the mucky water, and so I did, pulling out a rock shaped like a heart. (I still have this rock) I kept it knowing it was from God but unsure of what it was suppose to signify.
As I prayed for further conformation about what decision I was suppose to make, God, on three occasions that week, brought up the story of Abraham and Isaac. I grew up with this story but for some reason saw it all very differently now. I realized that when Isaac was willing to sacrifice his son as God commanded; it wasn't because he didn't want Isaac or because he felt he was being forced, it was a choice. It was because Abraham saw what defying Gods Will had done and as painful as sacrificing Isaac would be it wasn't as painful as defying God's will a second time.
As I realized this, I knew that God was breaking me; He was bringing me to a point of complete surrender by asking me to sacrifice my child to Him. NO, God didn't want me to lay my baby on a stone and burn her. But He did ask me to give her back to Him and allow Him to be in control. (I hope this isn't confusing.)
As things began to unfold I knew, that I knew, that I knew, that this baby was mine only for nine months and then, she was God's. God had the perfect parents picked out for her, and I sadly was not one of them. When I placed my beautiful baby into the couple's arms I felt my heart stuck in my throat and I shook with agony over giving her away. The feelings are completely indescribable--if you have children then you can imagine. I loved this baby but I loved God too and wanted to honor His will. For weeks I pressed into God, praying, worshiping, no matter what I was broken to pieces over this experience. I could have backed out, even after the adoption, but I had completely surrendered to God.
As months passed God raised me up as a worship leader, I never would have thought that my experience would have affected leading worship but it did. God allowed me thereafter to minister to three different women and one young man who all were involved in an adoption of some kind. All were aching inside and breaking before God as they took there steps to fulfill His will, regardless of the pain they were enduring. I spoke at many churches and to youth groups and I think that God is still going to use me even now, four years later.
As I continued leading worship and participating in all these activities, my birthdaughters one year birthday snuck up on me and while the day went on I realized that in many ways I was still broken despite how I pursued God's will. You see, I went along thinking God broke me for this and than would piece me back together when I fulfilled His will, but that's not how it works. I ran across that little rock that evening and as I held it in my hand God quickened a song to my heart called "Keep My Heart" by
Jeff Deyo.
What this meant to me then is a little different now as I look back. Then it seemed as though God was showing me that He wants to keep my heart in his hands until it is all mended and that he wanted me to want him to keep it for me--since He is the one who created it.
However as I write this now, God is speaking to me. What I see now is that we should want our heart to stay at least a little broken otherwise it can harden, and that it must be shattered in order for God to really get inside us. Shattering I suppose is more painful than feeling a few cracks here and there. (Just a thought)
~Breath Of Life Graduate
