My Dear Baby Boy,
Even these few letters are a reminder for me to release you back to God daily. It’s not easy.
One of the first things you will be required to do as you enter this world is to trust…the doctor, me and your dad. Before I can even teach you the definition of this word, you will know its meaning. I’m sure I’ll be the one learning from you about how to fully trust.
Trust–“believe that someone is reliable, good, honest and effective.” (Webster Dictionary)
My son, as I enter into the final stretch of awaiting your arrival, now, more than ever is when I must choose this trust. There are so many thoughts, concerns, possible outcomes that can run through my mind even before leaving the house…thanks to the new at our fingertips today. It can come flooding, easily knocking me off the grounding I had just moments earlier.
This is trust, this is faith, my son: believing that our God is good, reliable, honest and effective. He will not let you out of his sight. As I teach you this, I must believe and practice this truth myself. Though I may be tempted to run, to panic, to spin my wheels, I must be still. In this quiet, I hear God. He reminds me that He is good. He is honest.
As you grow in my belly, I can see more clearly a purpose that I didn’t have at this time a year ago. Yet, at the same time, I can easily get sucked into more worry that I didn’t have a year ago either. But I’m learning to trust too, little one, just as you will.
As one of your dad’s favorite authors writes in one of your soon-to-be-favorite books:
“Is—is he a man?” asked Lucy.
“Aslan a man!” said Mr. Beaver sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion—the lion, the great Lion.”
“Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thought he was a man. Is he—quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver; “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”
“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.
“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”