Sent

Little One,

I wonder what you are doing right now in your hotel room so many states away. You are probably sleeping, but maybe you are awake and your mother or father is holding you and looking into your deep dark eyes. Your third day is almost over. What a momentous day it has been.

Your mother called us hours after you were born. She and your father and your little big brother were driving into the night to meet you the next day.

“How does it feel?” I asked her.

I can’t remember if she said it was amazing or surreal or strange or all those things. She started to refer to you by the name that is now yours, but corrected herself and called you, “The Baby.”

She needed to go. I asked her to call or e-mail when she was able and told her we loved them and, of course, would be praying for everyone.

And that ended your first day, the day of your birth.

The second day was equally important. Your father and mother and little big brother met you and your birth mother and father. That is a part of your story that will be told to you and will be your choice to tell. That night your parents returned to their hotel not knowing if you were their baby or “The Baby” still. They talked and prayed and probably cried and then kept doing it until they both had peace that it would be OK if you were theirs and if you were not.

And that ended the second day, the day you met your parents and they labored for you.

Today they saw you again and talked to your birth parents. Your father led. He was considerate and gentle. He offered you up and laid you down. He and your mother stood in the uncertainty with peace and trust. They were unafraid. They didn’t skulk or pander or coerce. They were compassionate and kind, beautiful and true.

………………………………

I missed your mother’s call but this message awaited me, “I’m sitting in the car with a teeny tiny Baby E——- and who else? What’s your name?”

“I wanna hode it!” There was the sound of loud shrieking then your mother in the background, “OK, say hi to Alison”

“Hi Asson”

“It’s a message, you want to tell her anything?”

“I ga a baby sisstah…”

“I love her,” your mother prompted.

“I love her.”

“She’s cute.”

“She cute.”

“I won’t eat her.” (You will soon know there really isn’t anything little about your little big brother and this was the joking concern while we waited for you.)

“I want Asson.”

There was the sound of another scuffle then your mom told me I could call her on the cell phone, which I did immediately. By then you all were back at the hotel. I was told all about the last two days and that you are beautiful and peaceful, so contented. You were sleeping. “I can’t wait to show her to you,” your mother said.

And this is the end of your third day. I find myself thinking of another three days that bridged a death and the beginning of eternal life instead of a birth and the beginning of a new life. Without those three days I don’t think your three days would be, or certainly not the way they are, for so many reasons.

I hope you know from the very beginning that your parents didn’t want “a baby”; they wanted you. God put the desire for you in your mother’s heart years ago, but your dad wasn’t so sure. It was a little crazy, there already being your big sister, your big brother and your little big brother who kept them pretty busy. She decided to leave him alone and pray. Every month she would check in with him and see where he was. This went on for some time. And then one month she asked almost casually and he told her that God was showing him that life wasn’t just about what he wanted and that God must have put this desire in her for a reason and then he said, “So what do we need to do to get our daughter?” You weren’t yet conceived, but in the eyes of God and your parents you already were.

Your name means “Sent”. I pray that you will know The Sender who gave you to your father and mother. And I pray you will know that they waited for you sometimes in fear, but mostly in peace, surrender and trust and that they received you with open arms in love, gratitude and joy.