I didn't always know Jesus the way I do now. There were even times where he he sat in the back of my mind, but I didn't give him a chance to guide my life. I didn't put my trust into him, and it was after my daughter was born that I had to truly apologize to him. It took me four years to conceive my daughter. I waited four years, and at times felt hopeless, lost, and embarrassingly enough- angry. I prayed, but felt like I wasn't being heard. What was I doing wrong? I would ask and ask and ask. Then on mother's day a few years ago, I got my positive- the same day my mom found out she was pregnant with me years ago. A few days later in May, I got the blood work back confirming she was on the way- the same day as my deseased cousins birthday, and also the day that his celebration of life was held. When I went into find out my due date- it was the day he had passed. Before this all this though, I had moved home, and bought a new car that would support a little one in the backseat. All things that were perfectly timed. I spent the next 9 months worrying about her. I was placed in the high-risk category, and I will spare you the details, but delivery was scary. But there she was- fearfully and wonderfully made, and right exactly when she was supposed to come. Some people are privileged enough to get 18 months off with their children, and if she had been born any earlier, or any later, that's how much time I would have had with her before returning to work. But because of when she was born, I am blessed to get her until she is 20 months old, a gift I do not take lightly (I know others aren't as lucky). God's timing is perfect. I look back on the last four years it took to get her here, and I am so thankful that she came when she did- God knew what I didn't, and I had to humble myself, and thank him for the years of waiting- the years that brought me to my little one. My story goes on though. About 3 days after my daughter was born, I was rushed to the hospital and had to spend the night away from my daughter. I won't go into details, but basically the issue I was having had only ever happened to a handful of people ever worldwide. It could have been much more serious than it was, and to add to the stress, was the same organ that had taken my cousin (2 very different things happened, but same organ). Over the next few months I would have to go through a lot of tests- I was scared, but not as scared as I was 2 weeks after my daughter was born and got told that she had tested positive in her blood work for cystic fibrosis. The thing with blood work and cystic fibrosis though, is that it can sometimes present false positives, so you need to go the hospital and have what is called a sweat test done. The next day I took my 2 week old in, and on the wall to the sweat test was a plaque with Jesus on it. I remember looking at it, and with all of my heart reached out to him and asked him to protect my little one. I put my faith and trust into him when I thought hope was lost. I was convinced that that sweat test was going to come back positive up until that point. But the results came back, and she was negative. Now because she still has the genetic markers for cf, she still had to go, and will still have to go back for more sweat test over the years, but this I know. God is listening, he cares, he is performing miracles everyday that we don't always see. God is good.
