What I Pray For You

My daughter,

I do not pray that all your wishes will come true and all your dreams be fulfilled;

Because I have been there and seen that wishes and dreams can turn out to be different than we first thought and emptier than we realized.

But I pray that your heart will be captured by the Lover of your soul, your mind arrested and captivated by the indescribable glory of your Maker so that as you grow to know Him deeper, you will gladly and wholeheartedly rejoice to dream HIS dreams for you; 

choose to walk out HIS gorgeous wishes for your one, beautiful life.

You are precious and priceless, 

and His dreams for you are far greater and more fulfilling than you can ever imagine.

Trust Him, my child; as you grow.

Trust Him with all your heart.

Don't lean on the way you understand things to be.

Acknowledge Him in all your ways.

He will direct your paths.

And blow all other worries to the wind. 🌾

Wanted

The room was silent except for the whir of the machine beside me.

I shifted my gaze from his face; pursed lips and eyes that stayed fixated on the screen... to my husband's furrowed brow... to the ceiling and the exam light above me that burned my eyes.

I was just over seven weeks pregnant.

The doctor slid the probe gently across my belly. Too gently. I wished he would press harder, dig deep for answers.

Please just give me an answer.

Any answer.

Please say, "Ahh, there. I found a heartbeat."

Or even "I'm sorry, I found the baby; there is no heartbeat."

But please give me an answer.

Uncomfortable as the place and the situation was, I was glad to be there.

Even the cold gel against my bare skin on a chilly February evening felt comforting somehow.

At least now we will know something. At least now I can get an answer as to what is going on.

Please search hard, doctor, sir. Please do everything you can to figure out what's happening. Why is my body emptying out when it should be growing a life?

My mind knew what was happening, but my heart wanted to keep hoping.

Because that’s what love does, it always hopes.

Please say something.

Don't come up empty...

But he did.

He blamed the machine, it was just an outdated, portable ultrasound machine. I was also just so early on in the pregnancy, he wasn't able to see anything more than the enlarged uterus.

He was gentle and kind, the type of doctor we had prayed we would encounter that afternoon. He explained things and answered questions, but he couldn't give a diagnosis, he was just there to operate the machine.

I held Joel’s hand as I lay on the bed, and we waited.

More nurses, another doctor. Blood work, explanations, pressing around on my belly, internal exam.

Please give me an answer to go on.

Somewhere down the hallway a baby cried. I thought about the baby we were so excited to meet in September. I thought about my three girls back at the condo with their grandparents. We weren't even in our hometown, we were on vacation. Not only that, it was Family Day.

No one plans or expects to lose a family member on Family Day.

Were we really losing the baby today?

Somewhere in the blur of words and procedures I heard the doctor speak the phrase, "...if this was a wanted pregnancy..." And I don't remember a single word after that.

If it was a wanted pregnancy?

Oh, sir. If you only knew just how wanted.

Stop.

Baby, I want you to know right here and right now: you are wanted. You are loved.

So wanted.

So loved.

They sent us back to our condo, encouraged us to pack up and drive the two and a half hours home that night, in case things were to get worse. They couldn't say for sure it was a miscarriage, although they said it seemed likely. They couldn't say for sure that it wasn't an ectopic pregnancy, although they seemed to have ruled it out. They couldn't do any more for us in this town than they'd already done so they recommended we go back to the bigger city where we could get more help, should I need it. So we did; we packed up and went home that night.

I tried to process what was happening.

Was I really losing the baby?

Was this a miscarriage?

Miscarriage.

Stupid word.

How could it be that one. word. could so effortlessly describe everything that I'd just heard, experienced, seen that day? How was it that that one simple word could waltz right into my life, unannounced, becoming an easy label for people to use to describe all of the pain in my heart and the dashing of hopes and dreams and plans?

I'd seen blood on the bathroom floor.

I'd watched my body empty out and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. The feelings were similar to the night that earthquake shook our house; I was helpless and powerless against a force greater than my own will and intentions. I just watched this thing happen to my body, I prayed and I tried to keep on hoping that what was happening was not what seemed to be happening.

And then everything was still. The pain stopped. I soon felt almost… normal. Too normal.
If that was a miscarriage, part of me wanted it to be worse. To give my mind time to wrap around it all. But it happened so fast it didn’t even have time to sink in before it was done.

Worse, because you were more than just a word, more than a medical term like, “miscarriage”. You were a life, and if you were being lost I wanted to feel that loss in every way.

Part of me kept hoping for the best. The rest of me just waited in the silence of the next few days.

But those days went by and it became clear. My hCG levels, those numbers that showed how much of the pregnancy hormone existed in my body, were tested again 48 hours after they had been taken at that little Emergency Clinic on Family Day, and the results came back showing a dramatically lower number. My midwife called me personally to give me the news, along with her condolences. Joel held my hand as he sat beside me, he could hear enough on the other side of the phone to know what she was saying.

That emptying out that I’d borne witness to? That was my body saying goodbye and letting go.

It happened so fast, I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye and let go.

It was over. Just like that.

That was not the answer I wanted, but it was an answer. At least now I had an answer.

I could stop hoping now.

But wait.

No.

I will not lose hope. I will not let go of hope.

I am disappointed. I am sad, and I grieve the loss of my child.

Wasn’t it just yesterday that I had rubbed my already-growing belly and smiled?

I loved carrying you around inside.

You were wanted. So wanted. So loved.

I would like to name you Ava. I always liked that name. Your daddy and I thought maybe you were a boy, because you already have three sisters, but we never got to find out. Your tiny body had not yet formed into what you would’ve been here on earth. But now I would like to name you Ava, because Ava means desired. I don’t want anyone to ever think you were not wanted, and I want everyone to know what a blessing your short life was to your mama. I wanted you so very much. You should have seen the way I smiled and laughed and ran to show Daddy when I saw the lines form on that pregnancy test. September seemed like the absolute most perfect month to welcome you into our arms; into our home; into our family. You were due on the second day of Fall, my favorite season.

But Jesus wanted you more. You belong there, with Him. Dancing on those golden streets, endlessly praising Him and never shedding a single tear. I know you love to dance, because I know your sisters and I know your Daddy, and they are forever dancing to one song or another in the Family Room after dinner is done and while I clean up the kitchen. I know you are beautiful. Heavenly. I cannot wait to meet you one day.

Ava also means alive. I know, my child, that you are not gone. You are more alive than ever now.

Seven weeks is young, very young, but not worthless. You were so alive, even then. The knowledge of your presence inside me filled us with such joy, and the dreaming of all you could become gave us so much to look forward to. We loved you then, when you grew inside me... and we love you now; now that you are made whole and alive with Jesus. We know we will see you some day.

Ava also means voice, song, sound. Your life is a song to me. A song of a living hope. Through the growing and the losing of you I am reminded of the hope that I have that remains unshakeable throughout any and every storm that comes my way. Your life and your passing is drawing me closer to the One who created your soul and mine. My perspective of Heaven has changed too, becoming a little brighter, dearer, and a little more real. I know I am held by Jesus as I grieve your loss, and I know you are held by Him and finally whole. He is our living hope, the One who conquered death and therefore fills us with joy even in the face of it. Jesus is the One who heals, gives grace to walk through our trials, and fills us with HOPE in situations that seem, to the soul that doesn’t know Him, hopeless.

Could it be that your sweet song, my dear, will also draw others to the hope we have? It may be that there are those reading this story of ours who have lost much, but do not have this hope in Jesus. What a joy it would be if by writing out my heart here, my baby and I could together be a voice; pointing other broken ones to the Saviour who gives indescribable peace, hope, and healing to all who ask.

So I will not lose hope.

I got my answer, and it was not the answer I wanted.

I want to be pregnant right now. I want to believe the notification that popped up on my phone screen this morning, because I forgot to turn off the app after you passed; I want to believe you are nine weeks today and the size of a grape… eyes and nose and earlobes and gums, even tiny teeth inside those gums, all forming at rapid pace. I wanted to go to that first midwife appointment this coming Monday, maybe hear your heartbeat and grin from ear-to-ear. I wanted to see you on that ultrasounds screen next week, and I wanted finally announce to the world that you were on the way; I couldn't wait to finally post those pictures I took of your sisters on my bed one afternoon, holding the shoes that were meant for you to wear one day. 

I wanted to go buy little matching Big Sister shirts for your twin sissies. I wanted to video your 2-year-old sister talking about the baby in mommy’s tummy, and how she would wrap it and hold it and take care of it when it came out. I didn’t want to have to explain to her in a very simple, toddler-appropriate way that the baby isn’t there anymore. I wanted to keep researching quadruple strollers online, and toddler car seats that would be narrow enough to fit 3 along the back bench of our minivan for your sisters leaving room for your infant seat up front. I wanted to labour and birth you into this world and feel your skin against my own and let the whole world stand still as I soaked in all the glory of a fresh, new, beautiful newborn life that I got the priviledge to cherish and love and raise up for the Lord. I wanted to know you. 
Baby, I wanted you.

But Jesus wanted you more.

And Jesus fills me with hope that even this answer, although fiercely unwanted, is okay. He chose this answer for me, He chose this answer for you, and He never, ever chooses wrong.

This is me saying goodbye and letting go.

I’m giving you back to Jesus, Baby. You, and all the dreams I had for us. I’m giving them to Him. You, my precious Ava Hope, have strengthened my heart in ways that only a blending of grief and hope and love and Jesus can do. You are valuable, and there will never be another you.

There are those who do not realize what a gift life is. There are those who think seven weeks is too young, who think a seven-week-old life is not valuable. They are wrong, my dear, as we know. Every life is valuable.
You will forever be valuable and treasured in my heart.

Live on, sweet baby.

The Gift of Him

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)

Unto us. 

He was born unto us. Given to us. 

A gift. 

Jesus was given to us as a gift from the Father. 

He knew we needed Him.

And his name shall be called Wonderful.

Wonderful: Inspiring delight.

In my moments of disappointment, sorrow, unhappiness, 

He is there offering the gift of Himself to me,

The gift of delight. 

Right in the middle of the pain, depression, or misery. 

He holds out to me enjoyment, happiness. In Him.

Because He is Wonderful.

Counsellor.

One who gives guidance.

I have problems; He has answers. 

When I'm stuck, just absolutely stuck and I don't know what to do, His gift to me is Himself, 

the One who leads us into all truth;

the One who knows the path that I take.

He offers to patiently and ever so tenderly guide me and counsel me and show me the way I should go.

Is there not a moment in every one of our lives that we just feel utterly lost: unable to figure out the answer, unsure of what to do?

Was there ever a greater gift to mankind than the Gift of an all-seeing, all-knowing Counsellor?? 

With this gift received into my hands, why should I ever worry again?

Mighty God.

Mighty is defined as "possessing great and impressive power or strength, especially on account of size."

Problems have a way of quickly escalating into something like a mountain that seems insurmountable.

But my God is bigger than any and every problem I am faced with. He isn't moved by or worried about them because He is in control and He is stronger than the force of all my problems and questions and pressures combined. What a gift, to have all of His grace and all of Himself offered to me in the face of my problems. 

Everlasting Father.

Can we just take a second and think about each of those two words individually? 

Everlasting. Never ending. Boundless.

Ahh. I can breathe a sigh of relief. 

I won't ever come to a point where He says, "Okay, that's it. I've brought you this far, but that's as far as I can lead you. You're on your own from here on out." We won't ever be on our own. Emanuel is everlasting.

God is always with us. Always.

Father. How do you even define "Father"? Those who have a loving father in their life know just what a daddy-child relationship with God can look like. Those who have not had a loving father in their life know in their hearts just exactly what they've been missing, and they can know the fulfilling of that longing in God. But He is so much more than even the best of earthly fathers. He is the Originator of love, care, acceptance, protection: He thought up the whole idea. God is love. God is Father. 

Everlasting Father. 

A Father that never leaves. A love that never ends. A Protector who never lets go of us. 

The One who gave life to us and filled out lungs with breath, continues to give us life and breath day after day after day. Always loving the hope back into us as we journey down this road of earthly life. 

Prince of Peace. 

It's in the middle of the postpartum nights, hormones surging and thoughts racing; when the icy fingers of panic and fear closing tightly around my mind, that I feel it the most: just how much I need the Prince of Peace to come and save me in my distress. 

It's in the loud commotion of my day, in the clutter and the plans gone awry, in the toddlers having a meltdown and in the racing of the clock that won't stop ticking away while I'm running late, that Jesus, the Prince of Peace, is offering again to me the gift of Himself. He's saying, "Come. Taste and see that I am good. (Psalm 34:8) Let me quiet your heart and mind in the midst of the noise."

It's in the confrontations and the misunderstandings and the disagreements with those close to us that our ruling and reigning Prince brings the gift of Peace to our very specific situations, free for the taking if we will simply ask and receive.

  

Any and everything we need or could ask for is found in Him. 

Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift! (2 Corinthians 9:15)

What a gift.

He knew we needed Him.

"Every good and perfect gift 

is from above, coming down from the Father..." 

James 1:17

A Match Made in Heaven

{a personal testimony of how God brought my husband and I together, written in January 2013}


While at a youth conference in Colorado during the second week of August, the Lord impressed upon my heart (as He had many times before) that in order to be wholeheartedly devoted to Him I needed to let go of my own plans, desires, and ideas for my future and surrender to HIS will for me... Even if I didn't understand what that was yet. The hardest thing about that surrender was letting go of my long-cherished dream and hope of marriage. After thinking and praying hard and long about it, I chose to let go of what I thought I wanted and give myself to the Lord completely so that His plans and purposes could be brought about in my life. 

During that same week, my mom became friends with a Canadian lady whose son and daughter were attending the same conference as my siblings and I. In a conversation one afternoon, Mom discovered that this friend knew the young man named Tim who was courting my dear friend Whitney, so she began asking questions about him. During this conversation this friend also mentioned Tim's brother Joel several times as being a Godly young man whom she and her family highly respected. That day, even though she couldn't explain it logically, my mom knew in her heart that this Canadian Joel Holloway (who we had never met) was the one the Lord had chosen for me.

As the Lord would have it, two weeks later I met Joel.

Joel had accompanied his brother Tim down from British Columbia to Missouri for a week of (what I assumed was) visiting Whitney's friends and family. The second day of their visit the two brothers came over for dinner along with two other friends from their hometown and our mutual friends from Tennessee. When Joel walked through our front door for the first time my Mom once again felt confirmation in her heart that he would be my husband. I had no clue.

Many times throughout the next week I had opportunity to observe Joel's character. I knew there was a difference in our ages so I hardly considered the possibility of him being interested in me and interacted with him very little. I did notice, however, an admirable character displayed in this young man which I respected greatly. I'd seen him interact with my younger siblings: volleyball in the rain on the little-kids’ team and long conversations about fishing with my ten-year-old brother. In passing, I'd noticed him enter into worship during the several fellowship gatherings we’d attended that week: eyes closed to all surroundings and singing with a wholehearted passion that couldn't be mistaken. This blessed me. 
We had found ourselves one afternoon in my best friend's living room discussing mission trips and discovering -much to our surprise- that we'd both been to the Central American country of El Salvador at different points in our lives. I'd also immediately taken note of the fact that he not only like coffee, he loved coffee. Just like I do. Still, the thought that he had considered me never crossed my mind.

Then, on the last day of his trip, Joel asked my Dad to go out for a conversation over coffee. 

Peace filled my heart later that afternoon when my Dad called me into his office and told me that Joel had asked for the blessing of beginning a relationship with me.

Little did I know that early in August Joel had received an email from an older brother in the Lord -and mutual friend of ours- that mentioned me. It was then that Joel began to pray about me for the first time, even though we'd never met.

Joel had then flown those 2,315 miles down to our little corner of Missouri with the single goal of observing my character throughout the time he was  here and asking the Lord for guidance regarding a relationship with me. When Dad told me this I was very blessed remembering the honorable way in which he had conducted himself when he was around me. I'd had no clue whatsoever of any such observation going on the whole time. At the end of his week here he was encouraged by what he’d seen and felt total peace and confirmation from the Lord that he should ask my dad for his blessing to begin a relationship with me.

As Joel headed back to Canada I began to pray, along with my parents, to  understand God's heart on the matter. Peace like I had never felt before continued to guard my heart every single day as we waited to know the Lord's will.

After a week and a half of praying and discussing things with my parents, all of us feeling a confirming peace from God about the situation we decided to take the next step in faith.
I found that same peace living inside me, swelling and overtaking me, as I began correspondence with this man I barely knew who felt God's leading  to get to know me for who I am. It wasn't without occasional trepidation, however. There were those little fears that crept in, unnoticed and unwelcome, quietly as I lay in bed at night considering the circumstance. Humanly speaking the whole circumstance seemed impossible and even scary; simply because Joel and I hardly knew each other and lived nearly a continent apart. But whenever I'd take the fears and concerns to the Lord He'd remind me that He wasn't the Author of fear and He'd bid all fear to leave me alone. Peace came back every time.
So in faith I stepped out into a relationship I could've never conjured on my own and the scary became okay.

For about two weeks Joel and I communicated daily through email. We talked about all kinds of things including what a normal day looked like in each of our lives, favorite colors and pastimes,  personal convictions or strong beliefs, hopes, dreams, experiences, and what the Lord was teaching us that day specifically. It’s amazing how much can be communicated through writing! We learned a lot about each other’s lives that two weeks and looked forward to every new email with excitement. Then Dad gave Joel his blessing to call me, and when I heard his Canadian voice for the first time come over the phone so clearly, him speaking my name in that beautiful accent, there was that peace again: over and under, all the way around; filling that first conversation in a way I couldn't hardly believed. There wasn't even any awkwardness.

From then on we corresponded mostly by phone calls. The more I got to know Joel the more I not only began to trust and admire him, I began to discover that he was everything I had been asking God for in a man since I was sixteen.

It was a season of learning to walk by faith like never before. I had nothing to base my decision on but the unchanging character of God. It was beautiful because it daily proved to me that my Father loves ME and had tenderly and faithfully gone before me and provided for all of my needs; even throwing in a few trivial wants for my extra assurance of His genuine care.

And then the day arrived in early October, only weeks into our relationship, when I found myself walking down a jet way: one step at a time, making my way to visit Joel in Canada for the first time. Whitney, who was now engaged to Joel’s brother Tim, turned to me as we sat together on the plane and asked with a smile how I was doing. Above the clouds somewhere between my home and Joel’s I told her I felt nothing other than peace. Still: peace.

Five days I spent in British Columbia, getting to know the families at Joel’s church, celebrating Canadian Thanksgiving with him and his family, touring some local attractions, and getting to know Joel better by spending time with him in person. I left more encouraged than I had gone, and more convinced than ever that Joel was the one for me.

We continued our long-distance relationship on into November with daily phone calls, emails, texts and even a few video calls. The Lord continued daily to confirm to us that we were moving in the right direction and that we had been made for each other.

American Thanksgiving came around to us Missourians, and with it came Joel. Joel and his parents spent the day at our home and shared our traditional Thanksgiving meal with us. We enjoyed being together with our families, playing volleyball, basketball, chatting, walking down our long dirt road, eating and relaxing, taking four-wheeler rides and just enjoying getting to spend time together.  It was a day of celebration and giving thanks, but it was that evening that our rejoicing increased majorly. After dark Joel asked if I’d like to go for another walk. Agreeing, I grabbed my coat and headed out the door on his heels. Shutting the door behind him he turned to me. “Actually,” he said “I really wanted to just talk more than I wanted to walk.” He gestured to the rocking chairs on the porch and we both sat down. I looked him in the face and saw that tears were in his eyes. He began to tell me some of what the Lord had been doing in his heart and assuring me that he wanted to marry me. He gently offered that if I still wanted time to pray about it I had no obligation to answer him then and there, but I knew there was no need to pray about it more. The Lord had already made it clear to me in my heart that Joel was the one I had been waiting for all this time. Joel is the man I was made for. I made this clear to him, and after we talked a little more Joel got down on his knee with a ring and asked me to marry him.

I said yes.

Two days later was Tim and Whitney’s wedding. Joel and I began planning ours.

A week later, at the beginning of December, I flew up to BC again to be at Tim and Whitney’s Canadian reception and spend time with Joel and my future family. Joel met me at the airport with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. That week was filled with many wonderful memories for the two of us, including fellowship with the saints there, coffee dates and planning our wedding. The ladies from Joel’s church threw a surprise shower for me that weekend, blessing us with many things for our future home and then that Monday Joel and I flew out to Texas together. He had some business meetings very close to where my extended family lived there so we decided it was a good opportunity for them to meet Joel. We parted ways there, already planning his trip to Missouri just in time for New Years, and thanked the Lord for the knitting together He was continuing to do in our hearts.

Joel came down at the end of December and spent a week in our home with my family and I. I rejoiced to see the way my parents and each of my nine siblings love him so much and enjoy being around him, and thank the Lord for the many beautiful memories that were made for all of us that week. This was our last opportunity to spend time together in person before our wedding in February, so we enjoyed every day to the fullest and enjoyed watching God grow our love for each other daily as we were together... as He continues to do even now that we are apart again for a little while longer.

As I think of the story our Father God has written for Joel and I, I cannot help but think of the many similarities it has to His own beautiful Love Story. Just as Jesus came from Heaven to earth to a people who didn't know Him with the purpose of winning a bride to Himself, Joel came from another country to see a girl who’d never met him with the purpose of finding the bride God had chosen for him.
In the same way that Jesus patiently, powerfully but gently wooes and captures the hearts of the beloved ones He longs to call His own, Joel patiently won my heart and my trust through prayer and months of listening to my heart and displaying his love in multiple ways. When Jesus finished His days on earth He went back to Heaven to a prepare a place for His Bride, leaving us with a promise to soon return and take His Bride to Himself. I get the beautiful privilege of seeing this exemplified in my own life as Joel Holloway left me the first week of January to go and prepare a place for me with a promise to return soon and take me to himself as his bride forever. The Second Coming of Christ has never been more realistic or precious to me before now.

We pray that this glimpse of God’s work in our lives would inspire each of you on to deeper faith in Christ and that you would be encouraged, along with us, to continue to surrender everything to our precious Savior Jesus Christ to the glory of His matchless name.

{photos from our wedding day, credit goes to R&E Photography © 2013}

(Copyright © 2013 Madison Holloway)