We were on our way to one of Micah’s doctor appointments.
It was one of those mornings where I pushed the kids out of the door with a zip lock bag full of cereal and shoved a water bottle in my purse. Mostly for me, maybe for them. Coffee wasn’t an option on this particular morning, because I couldn’t spare the three minutes it takes for my Keurig to heat up. I could see my breath and felt a total #momfail because in the race to the car, I had forgotten coats. I threw them (the kids) in their carseats, we buckled in record speed, and were off.
I took a few minutes to get my whits about me, trying to remember exactly what doctor we were going to, and where he was located. I mean, we have eight different specialists on Micah’s care team, it takes some remembering. I flipped the radio on, took a deep breath, and reached for the water bottle…quietly.
Earlier that morning, I had felt a cramp, and hoped it wasn’t what I thought it was. Adoption has made me a mama. The stories of how my children came home to me are nothing short of miracles. I love them more than life itself. They are our greatest blessings and it’s truly and honor for them to call me mama. But I’ve been waiting on the Father to answer this one prayer of healing. For years. I know His heart for me is healing and wholeness. So I keep pressing into Him. Asking, contending, resting, and believing for complete healing. I’m like the lady in the New Testament, crawling through the crowds, believing with every fiber of my being that if I just graze up against His garment, He will heal. Because that’s Who He is. It’s what He does. I felt that ache extra weighty on this particular morning.
I took a sip of water, listening to the conversations in the backseat. “Mama, can I have some water please?” I explained that if I gave her the water, she would probably spill it and we wouldn’t have anymore. “But mama, I weally, weally, want some water. I so firsty.” I tried again, “Honey, if I give you the water right now, it will spill. Let’s get to the doctor, and I’ll be happy to share with you.” “But mama, I mean, I weally want some. I so so firsty.” She probably was, because her stellar mama was rushing out the door and didn’t pack sippy cups. She kept persisting, she was faithful in her asking, let me tell you. It reminded me of a passage of Scripture I had read that week about the persistent widow in Luke 18, who kept asking the judge for justice. Jesus told the parable wanting us to be like the widow, to keep praying and not lose heart.
Selah was in tears at this point. She was thirsty. Her need was real. She was asking nicely, but I still wasn’t giving her the water bottle. I said, “Baby, I want more than anything to give you this water bottle. I know you are thirsty. I hear you. I’m so sorry. But if I give you this water bottle, you’ll drink some and feel much better. But you will spill it all over your clothes and you’ll be cold and so wet. Just wait until we get there. We’re almost there.”
“We’re almost there.” He said to me. The Holy Spirit whispered to my heart, “Just keep asking me. When I give you what you’re so thirsty for, it will be in a place where you can enjoying it. Every part. We’re almost there.”
Tears started streaming down my face.
He saw how thirsty I was too. He wants to give me what I have been asking Him for just as bad as I wanted my sweet girl to have that water in the moment. But just as I knew what was best for her, He does me. He truly is the most loving Father. When I think I can’t love Him more, He does something like this, and I start all over again falling for Him. I can trust Him. Because He is for me.
We made it to the doctor’s office. And I flung the door open, ran, water bottle in hand, to the side of the car where my girl sits. I opened the bottle and helped her drink. And she said, “Mama, that is just so so good.” I smiled at her through tears and dreamed of the day when I will say that to Father.
