Mirrors and Mangers: Reflections on Parenthood, Pain, and Purpose

For the longest time, I didn't want to have children. Perhaps it was selfishness or the overwhelming sense of responsibility that held me back. Years passed as I navigated relationships until one day in my thirties, I met the woman of my dreams at a friend's child's birthday party of all places.

We have now been married for over ten years and have three beautiful, exhausting children. As I have grown older and more mature—perhaps wiser—I can barely recognize my former self, like viewing a distorted image in a circus mirror. The strength my wife and I have built over these past ten years has come at significant cost through struggles and challenges that have tested us repeatedly.

This journey has culminated in our current situation: she is now pregnant with our fourth child, a boy. My excitement for this new birth exceeds that of our previous children because I know this will be our last. However, that excitement transformed into despair when we received an unexpected diagnosis.

Our fourth child has a genetic heart defect.

The crushing weight of this news settled on our shoulders as parents. So many unanswered questions flooded our minds—fear, sadness, uncertainty almost too much to bear. Yet this is precisely where our faith revealed its true nature. Many times we pray or express hope because it feels like part of our responsibility as Christians. We pray at meals, worship during services, but when circumstances truly test us, where does our faith actually stand? This news of potential pediatric cardiac disease has presented us with exactly this question.

We sat in that ultrasound room, sobbing uncontrollably after receiving the devastating news. As we remained there in that darkened space, something came over me—a stillness that ended my weeping and allowed me to be present for my wife. That feeling was accompanied by scripture from Matthew 11:28-30: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

The reality became clear: nothing we could do would fix our unborn son's heart. No amount of research, crying, anger, or asking "why us" would change this diagnosis. We made a conscious decision to place our faith in Christ and surrender our burden to Him, and we began praying together. Yes, we ask for miraculous healing, but more importantly, we express gratitude for this fourth child, for our other three children, and for the support of friends and family. We approach prayer this way because we have learned that while prayer may or may not change your circumstances, prayer always changes you.

This truth reminds me of Romans 8:28, which tells us that "in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." We have found comfort in working as a team, and as we navigate this diagnosis, I know we are better equipped to accept whatever outcome awaits us.

The wisdom of Jeremiah 29:11 also brings us peace: "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you hope and a future." Even in uncertainty, we can trust that God's plans extend beyond our understanding.

We still face significant uncertainty regarding his diagnosis, but I can tell you one thing of which we are certain: our God is good, and regardless of the outcome, this little boy was placed in our hearts and lives for a purpose. James 1:2-4 encourages us to "consider it pure joy when you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."

You will encounter difficult seasons in your life. The question you must ask yourself is this: when that burden comes, how will you allow it to affect you? Will you let it crush you, or will you find the strength to carry on through faith and the peace that surpasses understanding?

In our darkest moments, we have discovered that strength is not the absence of fear or struggle, but rather the presence of faith that sustains us through both.