Last spring I’d just returned home from a writers’ conference and was all geared up to pursue a long dreamed of writing career when Scott informed me that he wanted another baby.

This declaration from my husband upended my plans considering long ago I discovered that I’m not good at writing and having babies simultaneously. It seems all the blood goes to growing the baby, then caring for the little creature, and my brain stops working. Then it takes several years to find my mind again so I can write after bambino arrives.

It’s not that I was against another baby last spring. I admitted that if a ten month old landed on our porch steps, I’d be happy. But the thought of nine months of pregnancy in my forties did not charm me. My last pregnancy at forty had been a challenge. The results of an ultrasound pointed to possible Down syndrome, and though our sixth child was born healthy, I struggled with the fear of this happening again in a subsequent pregnancy. With me in my forties now the odds of Downs shot up against us. Of course I don’t believe in odds, I believe in God’s providence, so holding onto the birth defect argument was pretty pointless. I’d already decided that obeying God and my husband was more important than a healthy baby anyway, but I brought all these worries to the Lord last spring nevertheless.

And here is what the Lord said to me, “Oh you of little faith…”

I heard this chastisement clearly in my spirit.

“Seven children requires more than a little faith,” I whined to God. Picking up my Bible, I read about the feeding of the five thousand in the gospels, and then just a short while later, the feeding of the four thousand. The interesting aspect of these two stories is that Jesus’ disciples experienced the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand and yet still doubted how the four thousand would be fed right after that. In response to their unbelief, Jesus said, “Oh you of little faith…”

I felt like Jesus was saying this to me over having another baby. When it was all said and done, I knew I needed to obey my husband and open myself up to another child, but I also needed to open myself up to God to grow in my faith.

I’m so grateful I did. As I sit here blogging today Christian Scott Bicknell sleeps against me. He’s curled into a breech fetal position on my chest, his favorite sleeping spot, which isn’t surprising that he still naps in a fetal position considering his actual due date isn’t until this Sunday the 20th of March. I call him my little peach because the peach trees began blooming around the time of his birth (March 7th) and are now in full blossom out in our yard. Christian is recovering from jaundice so he presently looks like a little yellow peach.

By God’s grace, I’ve continued my quest to read the Bible in 90 days in the midst of Christian’s birth. In doing this I cannot escape the overwhelming theme throughout the Bible that God measures our love for him in our obedience to him. From Adam and Eve to 1 Corinthians where I’m reading right now, God proclaims that love for him equals obedience. “If you love me, you will obey me,” God states throughout the Bible in many different ways and themes. I understand now why God reacted so strongly to Adam and Eve’s disobedience in the garden. What Adam and Eve displayed was a lack of love for God when they did what he told them not to do: eating the forbidden fruit. It was never about eating the fruit. It was about love betrayed.

Perhaps you don’t measure love in obedience, but believe me, the God of the Bible measures love this way. I’ve sensed this love/obedience tie for years, but it certainly has become more biblically clear to me as I’ve read at least 12 pages of the Bible a day for nearly the past three months.

We all have different faith journeys. Different purposes on this earth that God created each of us to accomplish. I don’t believe everyone is called to have a large family. I know many people who would give anything for just one baby, or a second or third child to add to their home, but their bodies have resisted this longing and they remain childless or have less children than they hoped for.

The Bible says that God gives children, and also that God gives the empty womb. Hard to take, I know. Especially when we want something different than God grants us. Several people I deeply love have battled infertility. Infertility crushes the spirit, at least until a person surrenders to the God who loves them. Then they realize that God has his own plan for their lives, and that plan is always, always the best for that person be it a house full of babies or no babies at all.

Life on this earth is passing away. Even 80 years of living is but a blip in light of eternity. In heaven we will not be married and we will not bear children. We will be like the angels, the Bible states in Luke 20:34-36.

Jesus also says that those who are disobedient will not enter heaven. Only people who love and obey God will spend eternity with him.

So as my little peach of a boy wakes now and I stare down at his precious little face as I end this blog, I am overwhelmed by the grace given to someone like me…

Me of little faith washed in the wonder of God’s faithfulness…