The Empty Bassinet

Today I did something crazy. As I was praying, I felt the Lord prompt me to pull out the bassinet. "Really, Lord? For what?" I pondered. I battled back and forth with the idea for a few rounds before finally surrendering and setting up the baby bassinet where it will go when we bring our baby home. I felt, well, crazy. The Lord told me to pray. So I did. I looked at the empty bassinet that was a tangible reflection of the place in my heart--prepared and yet still vacant. I laid hands on it like it was a person desperate for healing. A bed longing for a baby. A heart weary enough to believe it's an idea too good to be true. It made me cringe a little to touch my own heart in plastic and cloth form. I haven't wanted to look at baby stuff lately. I haven't wanted to buy the cutest girl clothes on clearance. It stung a little when I recently unpacked the closet full of beautiful baby summer clothes I've collected because I was convinced she would have to be home by June. They still hang there, lonely and wishing for soft, snuggly skin to embody. I have coped lately by pushing my longing into the closet with the baby clothes and shutting the door, therefore it was a big deal to lay down my armor as I laid my hand on the blank white sheet and asked the Lord to fill it. Please, Lord. Fill this bassinet with the daughter you put in our hearts a year and a half ago. Please, Lord.

The bassinet looked so foreign standing next to our bed, a direct mirror of the way I've felt lately. It's so hard to stand in the land of faithfulness and still believe that we weren't crazy when we heard God speak so long ago about our child-to-be. Time is an ugly deceiver.

The Lord keeps bringing me back to the same Scriptures, though they are living and breathing and therefore reveal new things to me at different times. Today I was stuck on "Dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness." (Psalm 37:3) Befriend it? Really? Dwell in this wilderness and enjoy holding fast to the vision? This is a hard word for me. I've struggled with self-doubt, questioned my ability to discern God's voice, and battled feelings of disappointment. The idea of not just enduring but cultivating faithfulness, enjoying it like a friend's company...well, that's one that struck my heart today. My first inclination was that I don't really know how to *poof* make it happen. Then I realized my first thought wasn't completely true. I thought about faithfulness in marriage. It came to me. Faithfulness is a choice. Sure, there are tools you can implement to safeguard it. Yes, you need to practice it. But ultimately, faithfulness is a choice...and one we make gladly knowing the covenant we entered into is worth it.

So here I am, challenging myself to make a choice today. Make a choice to still believe she is coming home. Make a choice to trust the goodness of God and His timing. Make a choice to fall humbly before the Lord and say, "You are so much more than a baby." Make a choice to intercede for her even when I don't know where the seeds are falling. Even when I don't feel like it. Even when I question if she exists at all.

We spent the afternoon downstairs, and when I returned to my bedroom and saw the since-forgotten bassinet I thought, "that looks as if it belongs there." It appeared so much more at home than a few hours before. I smiled as my heart reopened to the promise, to the baby I could picture squirming as if she was there all along.

Hello, faithfulness. My name is Callie.