Thatcher

I'm awake and it's the middle of the night. There is a little man on my mind and his name is Thatcher. He is 36 weeks old (in the womb). On Monday, his parents found out that he almost certainly has some form of severe brain damage. They went in for a routine ultrasound and walked out the parents of what doctors believe to be a very sick little boy. They have incredible faith though.... So much more than I could ever have. They have shared that this week they want nothing more than to know Thatcher's name is being whispered in heaven. And it is.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about him, or Levi, since I heard their news. Like many others I'm praying for a miracle. I believe in them. After all, to me, Levi is one as well. Normally I would pray for doctor's wisdom, but in this case I pray for their errors. I want nothing more than for all of them to be wrong. How dare they, in their arrogance, declare they know this child's future. No one but The One knows that. And he has a plan.

Needless to say, making plans for Levi is incredibly bittersweet right now. People ask me if I'm excited and ready and my mind immediately goes to Thatcher. I feel like just thinking about my own child's supposed health is incredibly selfish. And after all it is only supposed health.

So if you read this and wonder how Levi and I are doing... Don't ask. I'm fine and William and I are spending time being thankful for what we have been blessed with thus far. And besides, giving some superficial update on how swollen I am or how large I've gotten doesn't really seem appropriate anymore. I'd really prefer you spend your time and thoughts on Thatcher, Whitney and Eric. I have already seen how this unborn child can make hundreds of people cry out to God. Sounds familiar doesn't it?

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we can ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus through out all generations, for ever and ever. - Ephesians 3:20-21