When Sam was three, I wrote a book for and to him, documenting our 7 arduous years of infertility. I wanted him to know how hard we fought to conceive and carry him.
The book starts with the following:
This is our story....Papa's, mine and yours. It comes from my heart with love. May it always remind you that God gives treasures hidden in darkness when you put your life and your dreams into His generous keeping.
I love you,
It ends with the following paragraph:
At 11:21 a.m., November 5, 1991, with one last massive push, Samuel Hieb Ekstrom entered the world. Five pounds, twelve and one-half ounces. Nineteen and one-half inches long. Strawberry blond hair. Blue eyes. Crying mightily. Alert. Precious. Healthy. And so, so, so, so loved. A baby born to arms that had been empty for so very long. The fulfillment of a dream. God's gift. God's incredible "yes" to years of prayers. All wrapped up in a tiny wide-eyed bundle. His name means "asked of God." His life will be dedicated back to Jesus....with indescribable thanks....and he will grow up knowing and believing that Jesus can do anything, and that His gifts put our grandest dreams to shame.
That was 23 years ago today. The emotions of his birth are as fresh as this morning's dew on the grass. Tears can still come unbidden at the thought of the magnitude of the gift we were given that morning.
Throughout all of our lives, we are given many gifts that are eventually worn out, lost, threadbare, eaten, forgotten, used up or rusted.
And there are other gifts that keep on giving forever.