This is a repeat of a column I posted last year. Anniversary dates for both the death of our 2nd born son (April 22nd) as well as his birth (April 30th) are nearing. I'm content where I am now, but it was definitely a journey. Perhaps both faithful readers here, or those who are new, will be encouraged.

It’s not the destination, per se, but the journey. The road to contentment is a journey that every believer needs to travel. It might take on a different look for each individual, but the journey is one that makes a deep impact on one’s life.

As I’ve said before, having only one child was never in “our plans.” It took 7 years before my husband felt we could start our family—and that was after he put a fleece before the Lord! I was ready to start our family after the first 3 years, so those last 4 years were very hard on me. “Baby Fever” was very much in evidence. No one could accuse me of being content during those years! Every waking thought said “BABY” loud and clear.

I was typical (at least among my friends) in that when Mike was around 2, I was ready for another one. Glenn didn’t have quite as much problem with adding one more to the mix and we were blessed, even if so briefly, with Richard. He died a week & a day before his 2nd birthday. We were told by friends to give ourselves a year for each other, the three of us, before pursuing another child. In grief, you kind of go along with what you’ve been told if it sounds halfway logical.

In 1995 or ’96, after searching my heart and coming to the knowledge that I would gratefully take whatever circumstances that the 3rd child might bring—handicapped or not, we began to “actively not prevent” a possible pregnancy. Baby Fever rose its head within me. Again, every waking thought screamed “BABY” and every month that went by was filled with sorrow and questions. Especially from my son who for years would pray for a baby sister or brother (he didn’t care) every night at prayer time. Well, it’s now 2006 and we have never even been blessed with a pregnancy.

I don’t have the year down, but I know it was springtime one year when the Lord quietly spoke to me. It may have been 1999 or 2000, I’m just not sure. His voice wasn’t audible but there was a “vision” aspect to it. I know it was springtime, because the whole journey took about 9 to 10 months in all, and it was September or October when I’d finished it.

He was giving me a cup to drink. It was a pretty little china teacup on a saucer. It was handed to me. I knew what was in the cup—-Acceptance to Our Family Size: Past, Present, and Future. I knew I did not want to drink it with any “strings attached,” such as, “Ok, Lord, I’ll be happy to drink this cup, and then you can give me a baby!” I knew He was giving it to me with no strings and I did not want to put any of my own on it. That’s not how it should work.

It took me at least a couple of months before I could even bring it to my lips… I could look into the cup. “Yup, sure has stuff in it.” “It’s still there.” Those sorts of things came to mind…over a little bit of time, I started to sip it, ever such small sips, but sips in good conscience. “Yes, Lord, I want to do and have Thy will.” Yes, I was drinking it, but so carefully and slowly. I didn’t want to attach any strings unconsciously.

About 5 or 6 months into my journey, I noticed that I had drunk about half the cup. Now I didn’t think about my cup and all it entailed every day, not even every week. At times I was able to take large swallows, at other times, only a bit of a sip.

It was October, I believe, of that same year, that I suddenly realized that I had drunk the whole cup down… I wasn’t so consumed by “Baby Fever” as I was before. Yes, I still was open to having another baby, but it wasn’t an overwhelming “fever” as it had been. Even now, at 48, I would welcome a baby, but over the last 3 or 4 years, I find that there are a lot of pluses in not having nighttime feedings or in not having to lug a stroller, the diaper bag, and extra clothes everywhere I go. I have found contentment—His contentment with our family size.

As I could not help repeating to myself the weekend between Richard’s death and burial, I find myself repeating now: The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away; BLESSED be the Name of the Lord. Not blessed because of what He gives, not blessed because of what He withholds, but BLESSED because of WHO He is alone.

There are those who have chosen this path of having a single child. There are those who found themselves in this boat (as I did with the death of our 2nd son). There are others who deal with infertility, either having their “miracle baby” or adopting, and then find themselves homeschooling only one. Each one who goes through this process at some point in their lives must go on the Journey to Contentment. It will look different to each one, I’m sure. Perhaps my story and the way the Lord dealt gently with me in the way of drinking a cup, perhaps it may help someone else on their journey.

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