And I rested in a posture of a relinquished will. I accepted that for me, I had had to be brought low, to be broken of the thinking that I knew what was best for me, that my ways were better than God's. You would think after the past three and a half years on the journey of Jack's cancer, my stubborn heart would have picked up that lesson already. But I have a hard head and often a hard heart. And so, out of a place of submission, I asked for His will not mine. I asked that he help me to trust in him for the timing, for the future and for the life of the child I now had renewed faith that He had planned for us.
And once again, I find myself amazed that not only does He hear our weak broken prayers, but he answers them. In His perfect and measured ways. He answers our prayers.