Here I Raise My Ebenezer
My baby boy turned one this week, and I’ve been feeling pretty sentimental about it. After all, he’s my baby. My BABY. Just one year ago, I was birthing him and holding his little hands for the first time. And now, he’s one year old, looking less and less like a baby and more and more like a little boy. There is, of course, a part of me that doesn’t want to let go of this phase, with his pudgy thighs and dimpled smiles and those baby dance moves (a kind of bouncy, scoot-his-butt-on-the-floor thing. It’s way cute). The baby phase is so beautiful, and caring for a little one who needs you so desperately is a beautiful thing too. As a mama, I want to always care for my little ones, though their need for me will grow less and less as they grow older. Selfishly, I want them to need me. But in the end, I won’t be able to care for them. Not like they need me to. I can’t give them hope or joy or peace in the many years ahead of them. But, praise God, there is One who can. And He has done that for me.
Sometimes when I look at my son, when I look into those big blue eyes so full of life and joy, I am reminded of how God has sustained and protected, how He drew me near in my desperation and gave me peace. I think of the song Come Thou Fount and the line, “Here I raise my Ebenezer; here by Thy great help I’ve come.” In many ways, my baby boy has become for me an Ebenezer, a reminder of the divine love and help of my God. He is a reminder to me of those moments when I was brought low by a Father who also raised me up and turned my eyes and heart to Him. He is a reminder to me that God hears the cries of the brokenhearted and gives them peace.
Perhaps the moment of greatest lessons came two weeks after my son was born. Up until that point, I had been plagued by fear at different points. Being pregnant in a foreign land, a two-day journey away from adequate medical care, fostered fear. Giving birth in a foreign land, without the comfort of family and friends or the familiarity of a shared language and culture, fostered an anxious heart. But the Lord was faithful to protect and sustain. He brought me through my pregnancy. He brought us safely to our delivery country. And my son was born two weeks early, beautiful and healthy. All were demonstrations of grace.
I remember coming back to the guesthouse where we were staying, though, with my newborn son in my arms, and I remember the fear that lingered. Over the course of the next couple of weeks, the fear grew, and I felt like the Enemy was literally devouring me. I felt distant from the Lord, and I felt unable to escape the darkness of dread that filled my heart.
And then my son got sick. We took him to the hospital, and they immediately admitted him to the NICU. All that I had been dreading was coming true, and I struggled to know the freedom of peace in God. Even now, I recall those days with tears. The Lord brought me low, so very low. I feared the loss of my precious son, and I lacked the comfort and peace of trusting in a sovereign and good God.
But in those days of waiting and worrying, the Lord drew near.
Because we had no family or friends to help us, my husband had to care for our girls while I spent my days and nights at the hospital. He would bring them over in the mornings and afternoons, but I spent most of that week alone. And because I couldn’t communicate or understand the local language of our delivery country, I spent most of that week in silence. I would sit in the NICU and look at my baby or hold him if the nurses allowed me, and I would cry, not knowing how to pray, not knowing how to call out to God or trust Him in the midst of fears being realized.
And then I read Romans 8:26-27: “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And He who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.” What a kindness of the Lord! Even in our weakest moments, when we don’t know how to pray, He provides. He Himself will intercede for us, calling out “Abba! Father!” on our behalf.
And He gave me peace. In my desperation and my fear and my pain, the Lord was near. He spoke truth to my heart through His Word, and in my brokenness, He lifted my head and showed me more of Himself. I did not know if He would choose to heal or take my son, but He helped me not to lose heart. He reminded me that “though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” (2 Corinthians 4:) He reminded me of the day when “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be nor more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore” for “He who is seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’” (Revelation 21:4-5)
The Lord chose to heal my little J, not because we deserved this blessing, but because it was His good plan to do so. He used our own prayers and the many prayers of our brothers and sisters around the world to grow our trust in Him, and He healed our son. We did not know then just how serious J’s illness was, but his doctor told us a week later that on the day we left the NICU, another baby came in with the same disease. And it had affected the baby’s brain and heart and most of his organs. “Your baby is so lucky,” she told us. But it was grace, not luck, that saved my baby. God healed him, He protected him, He sustained him. Praise God!!
The Lord could have chosen not to heal J, and He would still have been good. For though His ways are not our ways, His ways are always perfect and motivated by great love. He could have chosen to keep J from illness altogether, but then we would not have known the joy of His great healing or the peace of His comfort or the reminder that He hears the cries of His children. He could have chosen not to bring me low, but then I would not have experienced the consolation of His help.
I am overwhelmed with the grace that has been shown to me, and as I look at my son, one year later, I am reminded of the beautiful love of my Lord. The birth of our son, his protection and healing, the nearness of the Father in the midst of suffering, His help of one so poor and needy, His sustaining truth and strength and peace…all are grace. And even more glorious than all of these things, He gave me Himself.
I have learned so much in this one year with my son. I pray God would continue to teach and remind me of His grace and that He is our ever present help in times of trouble. And I pray that I would continue to look at my boy and remember what God has done for me through this baby. He has shown me great love, and I want to teach my children that His love is indeed better than life. I want them to know that we are all poor and needy, desperate for the care of One who alone can sustain and provide and save, who alone is our hope and our greatest joy.
“Here I raise my Ebenezer; here by Thy great help I’ve come.” Precious Lord, may I hold fast to your promises and never forget. And may I tell in the hearing of my children the mighty things You have done…that they may know You are the Lord. (Exodus 10:2)
"I sought the Lord, and He answered me and delivered me from all my fears...Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all." Psalm 34:4,19
Sometimes when I look at my son, when I look into those big blue eyes so full of life and joy, I am reminded of how God has sustained and protected, how He drew me near in my desperation and gave me peace. I think of the song Come Thou Fount and the line, “Here I raise my Ebenezer; here by Thy great help I’ve come.” In many ways, my baby boy has become for me an Ebenezer, a reminder of the divine love and help of my God. He is a reminder to me of those moments when I was brought low by a Father who also raised me up and turned my eyes and heart to Him. He is a reminder to me that God hears the cries of the brokenhearted and gives them peace.
Perhaps the moment of greatest lessons came two weeks after my son was born. Up until that point, I had been plagued by fear at different points. Being pregnant in a foreign land, a two-day journey away from adequate medical care, fostered fear. Giving birth in a foreign land, without the comfort of family and friends or the familiarity of a shared language and culture, fostered an anxious heart. But the Lord was faithful to protect and sustain. He brought me through my pregnancy. He brought us safely to our delivery country. And my son was born two weeks early, beautiful and healthy. All were demonstrations of grace.
I remember coming back to the guesthouse where we were staying, though, with my newborn son in my arms, and I remember the fear that lingered. Over the course of the next couple of weeks, the fear grew, and I felt like the Enemy was literally devouring me. I felt distant from the Lord, and I felt unable to escape the darkness of dread that filled my heart.
And then my son got sick. We took him to the hospital, and they immediately admitted him to the NICU. All that I had been dreading was coming true, and I struggled to know the freedom of peace in God. Even now, I recall those days with tears. The Lord brought me low, so very low. I feared the loss of my precious son, and I lacked the comfort and peace of trusting in a sovereign and good God.
But in those days of waiting and worrying, the Lord drew near.
Because we had no family or friends to help us, my husband had to care for our girls while I spent my days and nights at the hospital. He would bring them over in the mornings and afternoons, but I spent most of that week alone. And because I couldn’t communicate or understand the local language of our delivery country, I spent most of that week in silence. I would sit in the NICU and look at my baby or hold him if the nurses allowed me, and I would cry, not knowing how to pray, not knowing how to call out to God or trust Him in the midst of fears being realized.
And then I read Romans 8:26-27: “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And He who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.” What a kindness of the Lord! Even in our weakest moments, when we don’t know how to pray, He provides. He Himself will intercede for us, calling out “Abba! Father!” on our behalf.
And He gave me peace. In my desperation and my fear and my pain, the Lord was near. He spoke truth to my heart through His Word, and in my brokenness, He lifted my head and showed me more of Himself. I did not know if He would choose to heal or take my son, but He helped me not to lose heart. He reminded me that “though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” (2 Corinthians 4:) He reminded me of the day when “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be nor more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore” for “He who is seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’” (Revelation 21:4-5)
The Lord chose to heal my little J, not because we deserved this blessing, but because it was His good plan to do so. He used our own prayers and the many prayers of our brothers and sisters around the world to grow our trust in Him, and He healed our son. We did not know then just how serious J’s illness was, but his doctor told us a week later that on the day we left the NICU, another baby came in with the same disease. And it had affected the baby’s brain and heart and most of his organs. “Your baby is so lucky,” she told us. But it was grace, not luck, that saved my baby. God healed him, He protected him, He sustained him. Praise God!!
The Lord could have chosen not to heal J, and He would still have been good. For though His ways are not our ways, His ways are always perfect and motivated by great love. He could have chosen to keep J from illness altogether, but then we would not have known the joy of His great healing or the peace of His comfort or the reminder that He hears the cries of His children. He could have chosen not to bring me low, but then I would not have experienced the consolation of His help.
I am overwhelmed with the grace that has been shown to me, and as I look at my son, one year later, I am reminded of the beautiful love of my Lord. The birth of our son, his protection and healing, the nearness of the Father in the midst of suffering, His help of one so poor and needy, His sustaining truth and strength and peace…all are grace. And even more glorious than all of these things, He gave me Himself.
I have learned so much in this one year with my son. I pray God would continue to teach and remind me of His grace and that He is our ever present help in times of trouble. And I pray that I would continue to look at my boy and remember what God has done for me through this baby. He has shown me great love, and I want to teach my children that His love is indeed better than life. I want them to know that we are all poor and needy, desperate for the care of One who alone can sustain and provide and save, who alone is our hope and our greatest joy.
“Here I raise my Ebenezer; here by Thy great help I’ve come.” Precious Lord, may I hold fast to your promises and never forget. And may I tell in the hearing of my children the mighty things You have done…that they may know You are the Lord. (Exodus 10:2)
"I sought the Lord, and He answered me and delivered me from all my fears...Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all." Psalm 34:4,19
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