I Want What I Have

My husband is my high school sweetheart.  By Wylie's due date, we will have enjoyed 19 years of marriage.  We help plant churches together.  Gavin coaches and I teach Pilates.  He loves sports.  I love to read.  Through our love, devotion, and affection for one another, God has brought five people into this world and four others (that we know of) straight into heaven.  I want Gavin as my husband.  I don't always want our differences or having to deal with what I consider messiness or inattentiveness.  I'm sure he doesn't always want my occasional nagging or rudeness.  Yet, we want what we have.  We have each other and we want one another.

My friend shared this idea with me a couple of years ago.  As to advice about coping with challenging familial patterns she remarked, "I try to want what I have."  I had to ponder that comment awhile.  It caused me to wonder how much of my disappointment, discouragement, frustration, and critical spirit comes from the opposite attitude.  How often does my heart cry, "I don't want this.  I don't want what I have!"?

Enter precious Wylie.  What do we want?  We want her to have the best care we can find or provide.  We want her to be whole and healthy.  We want to care for her.  We want her to know the love of her siblings, family, and friends.  We want a lot!  But what if?  What if she doesn't have her health?  What if we don't get to care for her very long at all?  What if she passes from this earth without discovering the love of her people here?  What if she breaks our hearts beyond our comprehension?  Do we still want her?

My answer to this question became even clearer on Sunday during church family's gathering. Our friend led us through a time of focus on God's attributes and places in the Bible where those characteristics are expressed.  One, in particular, stood out to me:

DESPISED

"He [Jesus] was like someone people turn away from; He was despised, and we didn't value Him." (Isaiah 53:3b)

Jesus was a humble carpenter.  When He announced who He really was, people basically scoffed, "Isn't he just from Nazareth and Joseph, the carpenter's, son?" incredulous that He was anybody special at all.  He lived nomadically.  He had no home.  He never strove for notoriety, popularity, or power.  He spent time with just a few friends and others who were of ill repute or outsiders.  The crowds grew at times but dwindled down to just a couple people who were devoted and brave enough to be near Him in a seemingly devastating defeat--His crucifixion.  The verse from Isaiah is a prophecy about Jesus.  It was written hundreds of years before it came true when the crowds hollered, "Crucify Him!" and the soldiers mocked Him.  Who could call this no-name failure, Savior?

These are the verses that follow the one above:

"Surely He took up our infirmities
     and carried our sorrows,
yet we considered him stricken by God,
     smitten by Him, and afflicted.
But He was pierced for our transgressions,
     He was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him,
     and by His wounds, we are healed."  (Isaiah 53:4-5)

As I consider Jesus who brought peace with God and healing despite our despising Him, I think of our Wylie.  There are many things about Wylie, in general, that people may consider unfavorable:  an unknown future, a very short life-span, a fragile heart condition, possible genetic abnormalities that could lead to serious problems.  And yet, I want what I have.  I want this baby girl no matter.  I realize that God (Father, Son, and Spirit) creates people in His image.  Wylie carries part of this image of Jesus that may turn people away from her. 

My heart has been wooed by Jesus.  More than anything else, I want HIM!  How precious that He and I can say, "I am my Beloved's and He is mine."  I want what I have.  He has given us Wylie as a precious gift.  I want what we have in her.  I want what I have.