Easter...

It goes without saying that Saturday, July 11, 2009 is a day in which my life completely changed. Only 2 hours had passed in the wee morning that Saturday, but I heard something that forever changed my heart, my world. I heard the whimper and faint stretch for air from a little boy that forever compromised who I was and who I am today. I expected this change and welcomed it with every fiber of my soul. What I didn’t expect was how this solitary moment would change how I felt and viewed my creator.

I was incredibly blessed and fortunate to be raised in an overly loving, supportive, Christian home. My parents knew of each other through high school, but it wasn’t until a church function that two high school students went from acquaintances to more than just friends. Sunday mornings and church were synonymous with Saturday afternoon’s and Florida State football for my family. A question was never raised of if you were going. Why ask a question, that you already know the answer too? Yet, Nathan’s arrival and the events of this past year have eternally molded my heart into a love and adoration for my heavenly father, which I never imagined could exist, one that I didn’t truly understand the depths of.

The week of our first Easter with Nathan, I would watch him play and wonder to myself, ‘How could I ever send him to die?’ While the thought lingered on grossly morbid and disturbing, it was something that shook me to my core and challenged me in ways I had never been challenged. I watched Nathan the rest of the days leading up to Good Friday and Easter Sunday and this thought lingered still. I imagined the fate of a world, literally sitting on my precious 9 month olds shoulders. It was something I couldn’t bare to contemplate or dream of. Yet, it made me instantly aware of how great and immeasurable my Father’s love is for us. Sending our son to die is something that I couldn’t do. Thankfully the fate of the world wouldn’t depend on me.

I marveled at Nathan yet again with that same adoration recently. Except this time, it was on a Wednesday morning, not a full 24 hours after his surgery. A surge of overflowing love and pride filled my heart for our little boy, for our little fighter. I wondered again, ‘How much He must love us.’ 

And I realize just how beautiful you are,

And how great your affections are for me,

Oh how He loves us…