Lisa Bonnema

Mom. Writer. Speaker.

Power

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Let me be honest for a minute. If you would have asked me a year ago about the “power of prayer,” you would have gotten some luke-warm response from me. Yes, I KNOW it’s important. I know God tells us to do it. And of course I have done it many, many, many times for those I love and those I barely know because, well, that’s what you do when something bad happens. You pray for someone. (Or you at least offer to pray.)

For me, prayer had always been one of those “I need to do more” things, and like most people, it was often a clear reflection my relationship with God. It definitely needed some help. I meant to pray more — to actually follow through on my promises to people — but sometimes I just plain forgot, got too busy…or fell asleep.

And even when I did pray, did I truly believe my prayers were making a difference? I mean God is God, and He is going to do what He is going to do. Was I just getting another jewel in my crown because I remembered to do it, or was I actually having some sort of impact on the lives I was praying for? I honestly don’t know what I thought. In fact, I never really thought that much about it all.

Now, however, I will boldly tell you that there is absolute power in prayer. I know it because I have felt it pulse through my heart. I have felt it zap away tears and energize a broken spirit. I have seen it literally move legs and ignite hope like never before. Trust me, there is power in prayer.

Ever since we found out about Brooklyn’s condition, I have been amazed at the amount of prayer and support we’ve received. I’ll never forget an email Jeff got from a woman we didn’t even know after I sent out our first prayer request email. Not only did this complete stranger offer us love and encouragement (and prayer), a simple scroll down showed that she had received our email after 3 forwards. Jeff and I were in total awe.

The cards, the letters, the emails, the blog and FB comments…each one has meant more than you know. And when you say you are praying for our baby, I believe you and I am truly and eternally grateful. Prayer is literally all we can offer our baby right now, so we have no problem asking for it. Pride has no place in your life when your child’s health is concerned. We will do whatever it takes for her.

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Soooooo…this is all leading up to two absolutely amazing prayer experiences I had in the last 2 weeks. Today I’ll tell you about the first one.

Two Sundays ago, my sister-in-law and mother-in-law threw me a prayer shower. The invite list only included close family and a few church friends. I honestly had no idea what a “prayer shower” was and although I was so very thankful for the gesture, I was a little nervous about being the center of attention. I mean it’s one thing when people are coming to rub your belly and say congrats, but it’s completely different when people are coming to rub your belly with tears in their eyes and have no idea what to say. But it wasn’t like that at all. It was A M A Z I N G.

After a beautiful lunch, my sister-in-law asked everyone to sit in a circle of chairs. She had everyone bring words of encouragement (bible verses, sayings, prayers, etc.) they prepared on a card that she put in a keepsake book. She invited people to read their card, to pray out loud if they felt led, or to just share their heart. There was no pressure and we didn’t go around the circle. People just prayed and shared if they felt comfortable, and I have never been so touched in my entire life. There were tears, yes, but not because we were sad. It was just emotional and touching and
P O W E R F U L.

There is no doubt that God was in that room with us, and I felt absolutely blessed that I got to be the Mommy of such a little angel. A precious life that had managed to bring all of these people together to talk to God before she was even born. Bring all of us closer to Him…and to each other. One little life, so many prayers. SO MUCH POWER.

After we were finished, I stood in the center of the room, and everyone laid hands on my belly or just stood around me. My sister-in-law asked everyone to pray one very specific silent prayer in their hearts for Brooklyn, for me, or for our family. It didn’t take long before those prayers were no longer silent and we were once again praising and asking and trusting. My heart was lifted, my love tank “filled,” and my doubts and fears eased. Total and complete peace washed over me. Again and again and again.

Did I deserve all of this? No. But I will take it. All of it. For my baby and for His glory.

This was no ordinary shower. There was no registry, no pictures, no Baby Bingo, no pink safety pins to steal from your neighbor. There was no huge guest list (although we had enough dessert to feed hundreds!) and no obligatory “I have to go.” I truly believe that those who were meant to be there were there, and God used them in a very powerful way. Everyone should have one of these. Seriously.

There were a few small thoughtful gifts, but most were opened after I got home. Nothing about this shower was superficial or worldly. This was about all about God.

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I will forever treasure this experience, the keepsake book that will surely get me through the toughest of days, and every word that was spoken for my daughter, my family, and for me. And for those words that were unspoken, I will trust those to God. I know He will use them in an amazing way.

There is power in prayer. Not only because of how absolutely empowered I was after this experience, but because what happened in the days following. And it wasn’t what you think.

Not that I’m trying to keep you hanging, but I realize that this post is getting long enough, and I have even more to say about experience #2. I will tell you that Brooklyn’s condition appears to be the same, but I will also tell you that there a lot more hope around here lately. Keep praying.

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Sting

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I sit on my bed, belly up, with a needle in my hand.

I am finally listening to my OB and attempting to take my second daily shot of blood thinner that somehow has taken me 10 weeks to accomplish. There is just not enough time in the day.

This needle, this shot, has nothing to do with Brooklyn. It is to protect me. Yet as I get ready to give the shot, she moves and I am distracted. She shifts, and the right side of my belly sticks up and contorts and is uneven. How that still amazes me.

I carefully put my hand on what I am sure is her backside. The tears start to fall, and I pray hard for healing. I pray for power in my hand. I hold her the only way I know how to right now, and I talk to her out loud and in unspoken words that go straight from my soul to my belly. She kicks, and my heart jumps. I am now smiling through the tears, and I know it is time to give the shot.

As the needle goes in my belly, it stings. Some shots hurt more than others, but today it’s not that bad. A breath of relief sneaks out. It’s the little blessings sometimes.

Yes, there are bruises on my belly. Bruises that were never there before this pregnancy. They are bruises I can hide and never show. But that wouldn’t be fair.

Because I am not alone. We are all hurting, somehow, some way. I am no different than anyone else going through this life. Life stings, and at times it may feel like too much pain to endure. But we do. We get through it.

The bruises fade, and we move on. But we never forget the sting.

And that’s where I know I am different….but in a good way. I could get angry. I could hold on to the pain, bury it deep within my body. I could focus on the hurt, the black and the blue, and give in to my human nature to sit in the sadness and dwell.

But that is where He comes in.

He doesn’t take away the sting, but He will heal the bruises and, most of all, He will fill the brokenness that goes so far beyond my skin. He will replace those bruises with all the colors of the rainbow, making the black and the blue beautiful and in perfect harmony with the bigger picture He is painting.

If you don’t know who He is, I am talking about God. And He makes all the difference in the world.

You see, I will get to hold the baby in my belly, look at her face, and I KNOW that I will be in awe of the beauty He has created. Not only because the Bible says it ( Romans 8:28 ), but because I feel it…even now. And that feeling is so much stronger than the sting.

I am still healing, yes, and it still hurts. But the assurance, the promise that lays before me is what I bury deep within my body. And even though there is another shot in my near future, there is also a life to live, a man to love, little girls to take care of, and much happiness to be had.

I will not be wounded. I will be better.

For me,
for her,
for them,
for Him.

Whispers

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It’s absolutely amazing how God has revealed himself to us these last few months. Sometimes it’s in quiet whispers as I look out the window or soak in the smell of a giggling ponytail bouncing on my lap. Other times, I swear He has been right there in the room, very loudly telling us, “I am here.”

Even in the weeks leading up to our first ultrasound, I feel God was whispering in an effort to prepare my heart, even though I had no idea what was to come. I vividly remember sitting on the couch with Jeff a few days before the ultrasound, telling him that sometimes I had a small feeling we might have a child with special needs simply because I thought Emma would be so awesome with him or her. Jeff quickly dismissed the idea—and so did I—assuming it was nothing more than “third-child paranoia” and nerves.

As I’ve mentioned before, we also decided to find out the sex of our baby this time—Jeff’s idea—and I admit I was pretending to be more excited about it than I was. It honestly didn’t matter to me. I also have never been a huge fan of saying, “As long as it’s healthy” simply because what if the baby wasn’t healthy? What if she had 9 fingers instead of 10? Did it matter? Would you not love the baby the same? I can honestly say that those words never sat right with me…especially now.

On the day of our ultrasound, Jeff and I were on the phone (he was meeting me there), and I asked him if he was excited. He said he was, and I teased him about the baby being difficult so that we wouldn’t be able to find out the sex. But then in all seriousness, I said, “We do need to remember what this ultrasound is really about. It’s not about girl or boy—although that is bonus information—it is about our baby and his or her health.” He agreed, and we hung up as I arrived at the ultrasound facility.

Now don’t get me wrong, the information we received in that ultrasound room took both of us completely by surprise. I plan to write about that experience in the future, but I can tell you I will never forget Jeff’s reaction. Watching a heart breaking before your very eyes is an image you can’t escape. The red cheeks, the confused eyes, the nervous hands…it’s like it happened yesterday. I will never forget that night — ever — even though I was in total shock. Even today, the reality of it all surprises me and catches me off guard as we go about our daily routine. Sometimes I think that is a sign of pure acceptance, while other times I wonder if it’s God giving my heart a break.

So it’s not like I had this “I already knew” moment, but as I look back, I can hear the whispers. The small preparations He made. The way He opened my heart to His possibilities, His plan—a plan that was so far removed from mine.

And while I have lots of “yelling” moments to tell you about as well (stay tuned!), I have learned to listen closely for His whispers.

Sometimes they provide what I feel might be very real information, but most of the time, they just provide a whole lot of comfort when I need it the most. Sometimes they come from a little girl who stops mid-eating to quietly pray for her sister’s “sick legs,” and other times they come from another little girl who stops mid-play to announce in her proudest (and loudest!) voice that she is going to be a big sister.

No matter the volume of His voice, I am trying to listen hard these days…and that usually means ignoring the world a little bit.

In my hallway, a framed image reads:
“Make time for the quiet moments as God whispers and the world is loud.”

I am still learning to listen, to drown out the other voices, and I am far from perfect. Before this experience, I admit that I would pick and choose when I followed God’s lead. I’m sure He has tried to tell me a lot these last few years, but life is busy, and well, it’s easy to get caught up in the meaningless jibber-jabber that is all around us. I can only imagine what I’ve missed, the murmurs of Truth I’ve ignored.

But now, it is different. Everything is different. I am different.

I am listening.

“Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.”
Jeremiah 33:3 NIV

“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.”
Jeremiah 29:11 NIV


“You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory.”
Psalm 73:24 NIV

Up

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She tells me she wishes she could fly.

I totally know what she means.

The weight of this world is so heavy sometimes. Too heavy.

But lately, I find myself floating. Floating somewhere between Heavenly hope and worldly reality.

This in-between, this waiting. It’s confusing. Some days, I really don’t know what I feel.

As I float, I work hard to keep my eyes focused on the prize, even when the gravity of it all tries so hard to keep me down.

I look at my girls; I try to live in the blessings. I try to ignore the rain and concentrate on the sparkle of the glitter that is providing so much joy. Sparkle that is making our day brighter, even if it is a little bit messy.

It’s a choice, happiness. To have an Upward perspective. To hope. And I thank God every day that I have that choice because without it, my feet would never leave the ground. Even if that means I have to float a little before I fly.

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(Emma’s preschool Teddy Bear Picnic balloon release)

but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)