“But as for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people… ” Genesis 50:20 NKJV
I think about this verse a lot. For instance, every time I see my youngest son pray, or speak to someone about Jesus, or when he makes me laugh at some of the ridiculous things he says. I especially thought about it this past Sunday, as he asked our pastor about getting baptized.
Each one of my children have taught me so very much, and they are each blessed with their individual gifts and talents and I’m humbled that God chose me to be their mom. The difference between my youngest and other children, was his conception and my pregnancy. See, the dad and I were literally separated, and going through marriage counseling at the time of my youngest’s conception. He is the only one of my children that I actually knew the exact date when they were conceived. I used to describe that evening’s relations with my husband, as “a moment of weakness” or “a lapse of judgement”… imagine how silly that is, strained relationship or not, he was my husband. Well, I was so embarrassed to tell my family and friends that I was expecting. Everything about that season was difficult. What should have been a joyous celebratory time was just shrouded in my self-inflicted shame.
Around 32-weeks in, I made peace with everything surrounding the human growing and kicking inside of me and chalked it up to God’s amazing sense of humor and impeccable timing. I chose to not discover the gender, since everything else was a surprise already, and I had 2 names prepared for the arrival. I was actually very excited towards the end of the pregnancy. In the midst of the pregnancy I had the added blessing of being a member of a newly planted church. My youngest would be born on the 1st Sunday, that my church would finally gather together for service in a rented theater. To me, I’ve always thought that was very special. He’d be the first baby ever presented in that church, before both my church-family, and alongside my earthly-family; and praise Jesus, he was the first of many babies for that church.
Shortly after his first birthday, there was an admission (from his dad) about the intent he had at the time of conception, and I should have been enraged, but I wasn’t. How could I be upset? There he was, this little kid, who was nothing BUT a blessing. Instead of rage, I was genuinely filled with utter joy, and gratitude that I got to be this kid’s mom, and that he was part of my family.
Fast forward to current day, and this is one quirky little kid. I can’t lie, I don’t always understand him. He’s very academically bright, but he forgets if the front door to our home opens in, or out… he’s asked, “mami, is this a push or pull, situation”. I can get distracted by the norms of this world (I’m not proud of that) and he doesn’t quite fit those norms. I spend a lot of time telling him, “honey, don’t ask that”, “baby, chill out”, or “can’t you see they’re doing something”, and then from out of nowhere, another mom, or a teacher, or a coach, or random adult, will mention how much this kid has made an impression on them. Either, because he said something, or he did something, or he volunteered for something, or the way he reacted to a situation. God uses this kid to remind me, daily, that maybe “fitting” isn’t as important as just being, and living, and serving, and laughing, and enjoying moments with random people doing random nonsensical things.
I praise Jesus every single day for the life HE allows me to live alongside the beautiful, and amazing, and INSANE family, HE’s blessed me with. I’ve said it 100 times and I will say it until HE calls me home, I do not deserve the amazing children HE’s seen fit to bring into my life.
My youngest loves Jesus, he does, that truth is humbling. I’m so excited to see how God will continue to use him and I pray for the wisdom to know when to guide, and when to get out of the way.