So, I told you we wanted another child. Soon. What about that?

To know the answer, you must know that I’ve been selfish. Oh so selfish. And proud.

I was so thrilled. My freelance workload increased exponentially, and I began to start a women’s Bible study for when we move to Lynchburg. “There’s no way I can do all of that and have another child,” I thought. “I’d burn out. Besides, I’m living my dream! I’d really rather that nothing got in the way!” Selfishness.

“I’m doing SO well with my freelance career. I’m going to make so much money for our little family. We won’t have to go without. We won’t have to worry in Lynchburg.” Pride.

Just as that last thought exhilarated me, my heart put out a warning : “This is not how God works. He doesn’t want you to be independent. He wants you to rely on Him. You will have to as a missionary. He wants you to start practicing now.”

As they say, pride comes before a fall. And I fell. Hard. My work diminished, then completely disappeared. Oh, I kid you not. I even started to get bad reviews on my work from some of my clients. This had never happened before. Ever. “I must be losing my touch,” I said to my family with a sad face. But I knew that wasn’t truly the case. God had always provided work when I’ve needed it. And I began to realize that if he gives, he must also have the power to take away.

I believe God allowed this kind of discipline from Him in my life because He knew that I’d understand it. He wasn’t trying to be cruel. Far from it. He was trying to show me something, and I knew I needed to find out what that was. So I began to seek.

I looked everywhere for lessons He could be teaching me. Nothing. I prayed. I waited. I read devotionals. Still nothing.

Last night I decided to fiddle with the family finances and see what would happen if I never worked another freelance hour. (Yes, I was in that much despair.) And I found something interesting: I truly didn’t need to make another cent in order to get us through Lynchburg. Would it be tight? Yes, extremely. Would we have any money at the end of the year? Nope. But at least we could make it through. In fact, we’d have exactly enough. I sighed and bowed my head. “Ok, God. I get it. This isn’t a justified worry that I won’t be able to get work done in order to feed my family. This is an issue of selfishness and pride.”

“If it pleases you, I won’t work one more day. I will spend more time with Liam. I will do the important task of raising my children well. And yes, I will be open to another child.” The many weeks of  heart-humbling desert-walking made it possible for me to mean it.

And you know what? This morning I woke up, and I thought, “I still mean that.” And I lived like I said I would.

As I was spending more time with Liam on a walk, an email came through my phone from a favorite client: “Would you have time to do a large project for us?” I had spent so long waiting for this moment. I had imagined it would make my heart feel full of purpose and life again. But as I took a breath to let it fill up, I found that my heart was already full.