February 1st, 1993 my son Brandon was born a healthy baby boy!
That could be the headline for just about any baby born. For me that was a day of great joy and celebration! To see and hold my little boy for the first time. He was alive, his limbs were in tact, he had all of his fingers and toes. He was living proof that science and doctors do not know everything! My God is bigger and is in control.
Let me back up a little. When I was 12 weeks pregnant I went in for a routine appointment and ultrasound. My doctor was out of town so I saw his colleague. After the ultrasound I was brought into another room to wait. The nurse came in and explained to us that there were major concerns with the baby and I needed to consider terminating my pregnancy. WHAT THE HECK?? I could not even believe they could be so cold. Didn't they realize this way my baby? I was a wreck. My husband was cool, calm and collected...and that made me what to yell at him! He felt a peace and knew that everything was ok. I am a bit more hard headed than that. So God and I had words. Lots and lots of conversations about this little one I was carrying. I cried and prayed and finally gave the future (whatever that might be) to God.
A few weeks later I went back in for another ultrasound and also to find out the sex of this baby that I may or may not get to hold. The only name we had discussed was Brandon. The verse for his name is Jer. 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. So I held on to that promise, knowing that no matter what God was sovereign and He would be enough. That day I found out that I was carrying a boy and his name would be Brandon James. The doctors continued to warn us that this pregnancy would not be full term and that if the baby could be delivered he would be severally handicap at best. They would monitor the baby on a bi-weekly basis and we could make decisions as necessary. Our decision was to see this pregnancy through to what ever end GOD wanted.
My son was born 2 weeks late and weighed 9lbs. Miracle after miracle. A child the doctors saw as not compatible with life was now here in my arms just as perfect as could be!
Now my son is 19 years old and serving our country as a United States Marine. I am so proud of him and the man he is becoming. My prayer for my son remains the same...."God, do what you see fit!", I pray that he is a man after God's own heart. I pray that God will continue to bring things into my sons life to challenge his faith and make him a strong leader who's testimony will change lives for eternity.
Brandon, God gave me a promise! He blessed me with you and has been faithful. I will always fight for you and cover you in prayer. He continues to "know the plans He has for you!" Now it's your turn to take his promise as your own. Claim it! Live It!
Love, Momma