Wednesday, February 23, 2011


I hugged my Abby a bit closer this morning after opening my mail to see if a baby we'd been watching had made it through another night.  "Baby Mercy" as we've called her in our house, was born last week with severe medical problems which would probably get her into the world, but not allow her to live long in it.  Her parents took little Mercy home Monday.  They had prayed for an evening, but were given two.  I thought a lot about the decision to take her home if it had been me in that blessed mom's shoes, and admired the parents choice... to feel.  At great cost to their hearts they made the frail angel part of their family forever.  They took her home to meet her family and spend her last hours there. 

I guess being on the other end of bringing a baby with special needs home I feel the weight of birthing a different kind of perfection.  I think of the blessing in Mercy's perfection.  How her perfect little life might not seem perfect to most, but her imperfections work to perfect us just a little bit more.  I know I'm not often affected so deeply with the birth of perfect babies around me, but this "imperfect" one touched me to the core.  I've been picturing her in heaven... whole as I often do with my Abby.  I can see Abby running and hear her voice. 
I realize the value in technology where we get to walk alongside these parents in our prayers even though we've probably never met.  We see the pictures and feel the joy and sadness of the people cradling her.  Forever changed...
Little ones like Mercy Joan change the lives they encounter and glorify the Father with their entire being for the entirety of their lives...
How many of us can say that?


  1. Something in my core wants to flee from stories like this because I don't want to know of such pain in detail - but I find that ultimately I can't resist them. There is such a strong draw to what is real about it. I get so disgusted with all the "fakeness" in this world. That raw pain and being so thrown on what you need from God is such an amazing and beautiful thing - even during unbearable pain. I wish I wore a better lens during my days. My lens is too selfish. I it is dishonoring. Thank you for sharing this. God knows I need a dose of perspective ever single day...

  2. Thanks so much for sharing Mercy's story, it just kind of put everything in perspective.


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