March 27th.

Just another date on the calendar to most, but to me it simply means:

Grace.

March 27, 2006…seven years ago…Ava was born. I became a Mom and my journey has been filled to the brim with unexplainable, undeniable…grace.

When I think of that day seven years ago, I don’t really think of birth pains or that right after birth euphoria when you finally stare into your newborns eyes for the first time.  Yes, those things were a part of that day.  But mostly my heart is just filled to the brim with thoughts of God’s great grace.

I can replay those first few days like a movie in my head.  Going from seeing my perfectly formed newborn…to a baby I didn’t even recognize within a few short hours.

Sitting in the waiting room as the doctors cut a line down her brand new chest and pulled her tiny ribs apart to work on her broken little heart.  I remember hearing someone else’s baby crying nearby and not being able to hold back the sobs that racked my sore and exhausted body.

I remember touching her for the first time after surgery and instead of feeling soft baby skin, I felt skin so swollen and pale that it felt like sand paper.

I remember the days following feeling little movements inside of me that were reminiscent of the life I once held and it was such a sharp reality that my baby was no longer safe and sheltered.  No.  She lay exposed down the hall on a sterile hospital bed with more tubes and wires coming out of her than I could count and enduring more pain than I could imagine.

I could go on and on and on telling story after story.  About the time when she almost died in my arms.  Or the time they came and told me that her heart stopped.  Or watching her go through drug withdrawals.  Or the days and weeks that turned into months sitting by her hospital bedside.  Or all the sleepless nights at home just watching her breathe.  Or all the doctors appointments and medications and delays and specialists and worries and tears.

But instead, all I can do is lift up a heart so full of thanksgiving that it aches all because of….grace.

God’s grace and mercy is personified in a tiny seven-year old in pink glasses racing through my house today.  Life is frail and fragile and not something that we can hope to hang on to.  But I am praising the One who holds her life, my life…your life…so tenderly in His hands.

Ava is still tiny. 38 pounds.  Still fits into her size 4T jeans.  Runs like the wind.  Is deep.  Is silly.  Learning is still a struggle for her.  She is sensitive and sassy.

And I will never be the same after watching God’s work in her life.  Because as God was healing her tiny life…God was doing surgery in mine too.  Showing me that I was NOT in control…but also showing me Who was.  Bringing me to the very end of myself…so that I could see Him in a deeper way.  Revealing His promises in a much more real way in my life.  Seeing a glimpse of the power of prayer…God’s power.  And so much more.

To the tiny blonde blur in my house…well, her mind is filled with what most seven-year old girl’s minds are filled with on their birthday.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way!

But this Momma’s heart is filled with one thought.

Grace.

Thank you God for your amazing grace.

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you for my power is made perfect in weakness.’  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9