A Mother's Loss

Our church has this sweet tradition of placing a rose up front to honor a child's arrival. Ishmael's yellow rose was starting to show that it had been a week and a half since his Sunday, but since I couldn't bear to toss it, I decided to dry it. After it was hung, I looked at the two already-dried roses hanging near it and spent time in memories... These flowers came from an arrangement that Mark and I had purchased to have up front in church on the Sunday that was our second son's due date. Miscarried still in the first trimester, we never met Asher John and didn't have nearly enough time to even dream about him, and yet we miss him.

There is a mom who carried her son to term, held and cared for him in the hospital, and spent time dreaming dreams that she wouldn't see firsthand come true. She agonized over decisions to be made, cried out to Jesus, and out of a deep love for her child, chose a life for him that was states away. And as our days are filled with the joy of her son, Ishmael Ray, she is grieving.

A friend wisely reminded me last night that I can use this blog to post requests for prayer, so tonight I am requesting prayer for Ishmael's birth mama. How our hearts ache for her, and how we long for her days to be filled with peace. I am so thankful that Ishmael will get to know her - he is surrounded by love in all parts of his story.