Moses

It was surprisingly hard for me to adjust to having two children. I had felt completely prepared for my first child, and other than some adjustment to not sleeping at night, I settled right into my role of motherhood. But having a second child scared me because my responsibilites had doubled. Now I was not only responsible for the physical, emotional, spiritual, and intellectual health of one dependent human being--but two. There were days I did not feel at all adequate for the job. I told Danny, "I don't know if I have what it takes or the emotional energy to care for more than two kids."

It doesn't help that my second child was born in Kenya where I was an ocean and continent away from family support. It doesn't help that I was struggling with loneliness, bitterness, and depression as a missionary in the bush.

Danny was patient and never pressured me. I'm sure he knew me enough by then to know I can be dramatic and emotional. And so he waited. And we moved back to America. Hannah turned one. And the issue of having another child sometimes entered our conversation.

I had another reservation about having another child. It may seem silly, but I was so afraid that a third child would not be as exciting to everyone, that my pregnancy would seem less important, even that the third child would be less loved by others. I didn't worry about my capacity to love--just the fear of how a third child would be received by others.

And then one day as I was sitting on our bed having my devotions I felt God speaking to me. There are very few times I have "heard" God speak to me, but this was a vivid one. He said, "Nichole, you should have another child. It will be a boy. You should name him Moses. He will be a great man of God." I hesitate to write that last sentence. I do not want Moses to feel any pressure in any way to be something "great" in the world's eyes. I am very aware that greatness in God's eyes does not always look like greatness in the world's eyes. But I know without a doubt that that is what God said to me. And so we got pregnant. From the minute I found out I was pregnant I knew it was a boy named Moses.

And Moses is a beautiful, sweet child. He loves life. He loves to sleep. He loves to play the drums. He loves to sing--very loud! He loves to run--but he hates to be passed! He loves to fight with swords. He loves his siblings and cousins. He gave his heart to Jesus this year. He has a smile that melts my heart. He has the most beautiful, long eye lashes. He is destined for greatness. And not because he himself is great, but because of the great God who lives in him. I will always tell him that I am proud of him, that I love him, and that no matter what it looks like to the rest of the world, or even to me for that matter, I know he will do great things for God. I pray for Moses that he will speak with God as a man speaks with his friend, just like Moses in the Bible did. And in so walking with God he will be a great man of God.

He turned four on Saturday. My how time is flying. He is growing up so fast. And yet he is still my little boy. . . and I cherish every moment I get to hold him, hug him, kiss him, and hear him say, "I love you."