abandoned to Christ.

Before our gracious and wise God allowed me to be physically limited by a rare metabolic myopathy, I used to run...a lot. I especially loved running outside; basking in the beauty of God's creation and worshiping Him as I ran. I would often weep as I was overcome by awe and utter joy of how awesome God is.

Since I loved running, I would run in 5K's for different causes. I enjoyed the challenge and the idea that by simply running, God enabled me to help and encourage others.

There was this one race I'll never forget. A race where I got smoked by an elderly woman.

Initially, I was committed to keeping this precious woman company. She could see that I could run faster, and wanted to. So she kindly smiled at me and said, "Why don't you go on sweetie. I'll either catch up, or see you at the finish line." I didn't want to leave her alone, but I also wanted to win. So I thanked her and went on. Well, in my pride, I ran fast and hard, just like many who were running alongside me. We were all near the front. But little, by little, some (including me) began to lose some steam and slow down a bit. When I saw that I was running a couple of minutes faster than I had planned, I slowed down...way down...I began to walk, which in running language means, you've stopped.

For those of you who run, you know that walking doesn't help, it only hinders. Instead of giving a person a "second wind", walking makes you use more energy to start running again and eventually works against you. The more you stop running, the harder you make your body work and the slower and weaker your pace becomes. It's wiser to keep running, perhaps at a slower pace if necessary, than it is to completely stop running, and walk.

Towards the middle of the race, I heard a tiny little pitter patter coming from behind me. Little, steady steps, creeping up on me. When those little steps caught up with me, I looked and it was that cute, elderly woman. As she ran up to me she said, "Come on honey, we're halfway there. You can do it.", then she passed me! As I watched this precious woman pass me, I marveled at the tiny, yet steady stride she had. I was also a struck by the fact that she spoke to me without even breathing heavily. How in the world did this elderly woman who had a smaller stride than me and looked more feeble, run pass me with very little effort?

She ran with perseverance and wisdom. I did not.

Though physically, it appeared I was more qualified to run this race, this woman possessed the unseen qualities I severely lacked to finish it well.

I can no longer run physically, but I am grateful to God for the unseen and eternal lesson He taught me through this sweet woman I had the privilege of being smoked by. I learned to run this race of life, with perseverance and wisdom. A strong steady pace is better than a quick "hurrah" start, a mediocre middle and a pathetic end.

And just like in this race, running the race of faith, is run better with true and loving companions:

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."

~Ecclesiastes 4:9-10, Hebrews 12:1-2

How do you accurately assess those who are running this race of faith alongside you? Who are your true companions in the cause of Christ? I've learned it is not those who quickly come alongside you with great boasts of their love for Christ, nor those who obtain a lot of Bible knowledge, nor those who claim to agree with your passion to live a life completely abandoned to the Lord Jesus (Gal 1:10, 2:20).

Talk is cheap and often fake. A person's true character and passion is revealed by their level of perseverance, or lack thereof.

"Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth."

~1 John 3:18

I've learned my true companions are those who are carrying their crosses (Luke 9:23), steadily running with perseverance and wisdom, as we mutually exhort one another all the more, to live only for the Day that is approaching (Hebrews 10:23-25); so that none of us will be ashamed at the appearing of our Savior (1 John 2:28).

I read this note on Facebook and was so touched by it, I contacted Cynthia and asked if I could share her intimate story of the grave news she received about her baby, the strong suggestion to abort him and the conclusion the Lord brought her to.

Get some tissues, and get ready to experience a story you'll never forget.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My heart is heavy this morning. I feel the need to finally share this story with you, in hopes that it will reach someone who needs to hear it.

April 13, 2010: A doctor brought in the images from my MRI and put them up on a big screen where we could clearly see our baby's spine had stopped forming at the 5th lumbar. She said, "Everything from here down is going to have issues. You'll need to catheterize him at a minimum of every 2 hours, and give him enemas every morning, and lifelong diapers. I can't stress to you enough the importance of catheterization. And in addition to the bowel and urinary issues, he probably won't have sexual function. The day after he's born he'll need a drainage shunt installed in his brain to relieve the swelling in his left ventricle, and those usually get infected and have to be replaced several times throughout a person's life... Because of the brain swelling there's a good chance he'll have a lower IQ than his classmates. Are you set on keeping this pregnancy?"

Me: "Yes."

Doctor: "Alright, but If you continue with this pregnancy, I just need to warm you, you're looking at a lifetime of physical, financial, and emotional pain."

Never in my life did I think I'd someday get pregnant before I was ready, and never in my life did I think I'd have a doctor look me in the eye, tell me my child was going to have a poor quality of life, and that "interrupting" my pregnancy would be the quickest, easiest, and possibly most "civil" solution to our problem. I was 22 weeks pregnant. I could feel William rolling all around... especially if I ate a popsicle or drank something cold, he went nuts!

No doubt he was a living, feeling human being. In fact, a baby's entire spine and nervous system is completely formed at only 23 days gestation. So before a woman even knows she is pregnant, her baby's ability to feel pain is already there. I knew those facts, and my convictions to keep William were solid -- but the picture I was painted was bleak. The doctor handed me a pamphlet (in case I changed my mind) containing information on "Therapeutic Abortions". The pamphlet stated it was a quick and easy process, in which a chemical is injected into the fetal heart, and once the heartbeat stops, labor is induced. Because of the "special" circumstances, I had this option available until 39 weeks gestation, and clergy from every religion were available to comfort me before and after the process.

I gave birth to William at 38 weeks.

It's been a year and a half since we received that awful news, and I'm finally at a place where I feel comfortable sharing what we really felt that day. I want to say that keeping William was an easy choice... but it wasn't all that easy. On the drive home, Josh and I were speechless and could only cry. I cried so hard I was actually wailing. And then an evil thought crept into my mind. We were driving on a bridge over water, and I started fantasizing about hitting a guard rail and going over the side. I thought that would solve everything. I actually felt disappointed when we reached the other side of the bridge safely. I was that deep into depression already. (A few months later I admitted this to Josh, and he said he had that exact same thought as we drove over that bridge. Surely we were both under a very serious attack.)

17 months later, and the only grief I feel is for the fact that I ever grieved at all! I shudder to think of life without William. After giving birth, I adopted the belief that when a man or woman holds their child for the very first time, they get to experience a split second of heaven on earth. We suddenly taste the impossible selfless love we were intended to revel in all along. I wish I could sum it up for you, but I just can't. I love my little William so much. Those who spend time with me know that 10 minutes into his nap I want to run into his nursery and grab him. As wonderful as life before parenting was with just Josh and I in our marital bliss, I equate having William to the movie, The Wizard of Oz, where Dorothy is perfectly content with life in black and white, but then she walks through a door and enters a world of color.

I have repented to God for those few hours I spent wishing I could go back in time and prevent getting pregnant. I can't believe that for a short time, I gave into the deception that William's life was not going to be as valuable as a perfectly healthy child. On the eve of his diagnosis, I was consumed with thoughts of being burdened by the extra care he would need. But now that I have him here, my heart is consumed with love... and I would happily lay down my life for him. It is my greatest joy to take care of him, and rather than feeling inconvenienced by the amount of care he needs, I feel sorrow that I cannot forfeit all of my limbs to make him whole.

My first time holding William. Suddenly nothing else mattered.

When it comes to the issue of abortion, the mother feels that giving up the life of her baby will somehow spare her own. If only she could see that as she holds that helpless baby in her arms, suddenly she we would give up every convenience and every dream she ever had for the sake of that baby. But unfortunately, these young mothers don't know. They've been told that what's inside them isn't really a person. In fact, I had a friend tell me that scientists believe they have narrowed down a "depression gene" that can be detected in an early gestation fetus. She said, "So someday the parents will be able to identify that and remove the fetus early on." Wow! What a concept! We can treat pregnancy as a trial and error process that will eventually allow us to filter out imperfections.

That sounds so terribly familiar. Hitler actually declared Jews to be non-human "pests", and somehow convinced millions of people to be okay with their extermination because it was best for their country. We see this as being so very evil, and we feel as though we've learned our lesson and could never allow something like this to be repeated... yet we as Americans, have bought into the same lie once again. We've been brainwashed to think that a baby in the womb is not a person. By branding it a fetus we do not have to admit that abortion is murder. It is the woman's right to choose a quick and easy termination if it will make her situation better.

One in four babies are aborted -- an average of 3,322 lives are terminated each day. We justify this and say there are circumstances where it is acceptable... like if the child is going to be born with downs syndrome. Hitler would have agreed. Do you know that Hitler picked out children with handicaps, lined them up, and shot them to death? We wouldn't think that is okay, but somehow this country does not see how the two scenarios are parallel. He deemed their lives "not valuable", and we think, "What gave him that right to decide that?" Don't you see the irony? What if the USA had just released a statement in the second World War that said, "We believe it is Germany's right to choose what is best for their country. It is a personal choice they have made based off their individual circumstances, and while the situation is unfortunate and not ideal, if is their right to choose."

God help us for becoming such a calloused nation, and for putting people in office that support and even encourage the termination of your people! I feel very strongly about this subject as you can tell. And it is not out of hatred that I speak, but out of an all consuming and almost painful amount of love for both the unborn and their parents. I love these potential parents so much; the thought of them being robbed of the insurmountable joy they could be headed for, grieves me on a level that cannot be described.

William is doing very well, much better than we were told. But even if his diagnosis had been totally correct, his life would be no less valuable to us. I know William's life and even his challenges will bring glory to God. If our story reaches even just one person in time, this note will have served its purpose a thousand times over.