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  • Writer's pictureJoseph Greenberg

The Silent Struggle of Motherhood & Trusting God with our Children

I was pondering the story of baby Moses and Baby Yeshua in the TLV Treasures Bible Lesson this week and was really “feeling” for the hearts of the two mothers in those stories.

Moses’ Mother

One has a child that she has to give up, then nurse for someone else. Her son becomes a prince, is banished for decades, and then delivers a newborn nation by answering the call of ADONAI. His writings become the foundational governmental documents for centuries and still change life today. He is still revered today.

Yeshua’s Mother

The other child was a veiled gift, obedient and present for snuggling all the way to adulthood. Then, in a short 33 years, he was crucified for claiming to be Messiah, though no one actually knew he was God until He rose from the dead. His profound teachings and compassion for all people, both the righteous and the sinner, resurrects lives every single day for those who put their trust in Him.

The Strength of a Mother

We don’t know if Moses’ mother made it out of Egypt with her son, though her other children did. Thankfully, we know that Yeshua’s mother was there for both the crucifixion and the resurrection. But, then, He was gone to return to His Heavenly Father. I am especially comforted to know that her two sons who had rejected Yeshua’s earthly ministry DID come to believe and proclaim after His resurrection. They, along with Yeshua’s beloved disciple John surely must have been strength to her.

As mothers – and lovers of the God of Israel – these women inspire me. I wish they would tell me their stories of faith. I wish I knew how they endured. That is why we need community. We need each other’s stories to bear witness alongside us that the God of the Universe sees our suffering and holds our hearts fast in his powerful hands. He is trustworthy.

Trusting God with the Lives of our Children

Back when my youngest son was first born, I had a “night watch of faith.” I was 324lbs and in my mid-thirties. Mark and I went in for a routine ultrasound on the late afternoon of our wedding anniversary. We were all dressed up and ready to party. At the ultrasound, our doctor was concerned that the amniotic fluid was too low, and I was only three weeks away from my due date, so he told me we would be having the C-section that night! What a nice, though unexpected, way to celebrate our anniversary!

Our sweet baby was born just before midnight. After about an hour in recovery, Mark went home to sleep. Just before they were to bring me to my room, they told me they were bringing our baby to neo-natal unit for a “pit stop.” Unconcerned, I rested a bit more and then they prepared to wheel me to my room. On the way, they brought me – and my whole bed – into the neonatal to see my baby. Still exhausted and groggy, they told me they had a few concerns and then proceeded to take me to my room.

When I got settled in my room, I started to pray peacefully. As the first hour elapsed I grew more and more alarmed. If this was “no big deal,” why would they wheel my entire bed into the neonatal unit? Was he really in danger? Was that the last time I was going to see him?! I called the nurse in, she explained, and I prayed. I called the nurse in an hour later, she explained, I prayed. I did not call Mark. I knew if this was serious, I would need him fully rested and morning was just a few hours away. Those were the longest hours. I had been a praying woman for 12 years – and this was a huge test of faith. Did I believe God could save my child – absolutely. Did I believe prayers work – absolutely. Did I believe my prayers would save him? NO. I believed God would be God and only God knew His plans for my child. When I had no one who could help me, or my child, I had my Bible to talk with God throughout that very long night. I knew what stories in the Torah, the first five books of the Bible, I needed to read to remember how to trust Him. I also opened it to the old familiar pages – the Psalms to praise Him, the Proverbs to make wise choices, the Gospels to hear the words of my blessed Savior.

When there is nothing I can do, I can trust God. After about a week, my baby was safe in my arms and is still snuggly to this day sixteen years later – all six feet of him. I still pray that God’s will be done in his life. I look forward to who he will become. I remember everyday how blessed I am to have him in my life. I thank God for saving him that night. I thank God for “delivering us” through that trial.

Children are miracles that come “through” mothers, from God. He gifts them to both their parents for our watch care. Together, our family is born of God’s love. His blessing multiplies us.

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