Into the lion's den a year later

Last week a friend had a baby boy. She had planned a home birth but ended up delivering her baby in a hospital. It was the very hospital where Samuel was born. The kids and I happened to be in town for a doctor's appointment and wanted to drop by some food and gifts for them.

It was strange. I didn't want to go...I did...but I didn't. I thought it would be fine, we'd just swing by since we were already so close, drop off the things at the nurses' desk and leave.

But as we entered the maternity ward and heard the different newborn babies crying I started to feel the walls closing in on me. I felt sick. My daughter kept asking question after question, my son was asking questions, I was lost weaving my way through the maze of corridors, the crying babies...I heard myself saying "we're going to find the nurse's desk, give them this stuff and get out of here..."

Not very comforting to the little people. Mama was stressed.

As we rounded a corner my sons pointed a ginger finger and said, "You were down there Mama." None of it looked familiar. I just remember my view in the room.

Finally, we were on our way out...we passed a waiting room. My oldest son said, "Mama, there's the room. That is where we were. I tried to sleep. That's where Mrs. D knit all night, where Desiree and Dawna slept." He spoke in an awed hushed voice, as if he were speaking of a special, sacred place.

He said, "I've always wanted to come back here." He said it in such a happy, satisfied way.

"Why?" (I never wanted to set foot in here again.)

"Because...we are so different. We are changed because of what happened here. God used it to change us." He spoke with a grateful tone and with a maturity far beyond his 13 years.

Remembering Samuel's birth - October 21

The little birds trust God, for they go singing

From northern woods where autumn winds have blown,

With joyous faith their trackless pathway winging

To summer-lands of song, afar, unknown.

Let us go singing, then, and not go sighing;

Since we are sure our times are in His hand,

Why should we weep, and fear, and call it dying?

'Tis only flitting to a Summer-land.

He flew away to a summer-land. I like that. It feels so much nicer than thinking about how someone you love died.

He was our little bird, the Lord called him and he had to fly.

Hmm.

I get stuck on the dying part. It's hard to keep your mind straight. You know, focused on what is real, not what feels real here and now, but what is eternally real.

I had been thinking about Samuel's birthday approaching and felt, well, sad. I wanted to do something, to mark it. I didn't want it to just pass without doing 'something' special. One day, my friend Renee called and I just happened to be crying about it (literally) and happened to answer the phone and actually tell her the truth. Later, she surprised me by planning to have Desiree, Dawna and her come over for the day. Desiree has been our midwife with both Isabel and Samuel. Dawna was her assistant. They were all there that night Samuel was born so it seemed appropriate to have them come to remember.

So they came on a crisp, windy fall day. In anticipating his birthday I had this desire to make a chocolate cake with fluffy, light blue frosting. I had to do it and I loved making it. It was a so much fun to frost with. It felt like an art project.

FLUFFY WHITE FROSTING

This frosting tastes like marshmallows, has a beautiful shine, and holds its shape well.

1 cup white sugar

1/3 cup water

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

2 egg whites

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

In a saucepan, stir together the sugar, water and cream of tartar. Cook over medium-high heat until the sugar is dissolved and the mixture is bubbly.

In a medium mixing bowl, whip the egg whites and vanilla to soft peaks. Gradually add the sugar mixture while whipping constantly until stiff peaks form, about 7 to 10 minutes. Frost the cake of your choice.

This is a perfect frosting for cupcakes-you can color it any color, then just dip the cupcakes in the bowl to frost them (you don't even need a knife!) Since it contains egg whites, it will dry out and become meringue-like if left uncovered. Keep the cake or cupcakes tightly covered and they should stay moist.

So they came for an afternoon, to remember, to discuss, to acknowledge...what happened, how it happened. To sit and talk about things often not talked about, things people are afraid to bring up. We talked about how we still can't believe it happened.

Here is the Baby Surprise Sweater that I (and my friend) knit for Samuel.

I learned to spin yarn for this little jacket.

We talked about the ultrasound, when we found out, how we found out, how Desiree stood in her bedroom on the phone and felt like she was in a dream. She couldn't believe she was going to have to tell us this news about another baby.

We talked about the night he was born. How afraid and alone I felt. How I dreaded doing it all again.

How Renee came and sat up all night long in the waiting room knitting and knitting, sometimes falling asleep knitting on this beautiful jacket (Baby Surprise Jacket) so that it would be finished by morning when Samuel was born.

How after seeing Samuel's lifeless body, Renee had gone home and laid on her bathroom floor and sobbed realizing how powerless we are, there is nothing we can do. We are the Lord's. He reigns in heaven and earth and does as He pleases.

All the peoples of the earth are regarded as nothing. He does as he pleases with the powers of heaven and the peoples of the earth. No one can hold back his hand or say to him: "What have you done?" Daniel 4:35

If he snatches away, who can stop him? Who can say to him, 'What are you doing?' Job 9:12

But who are you, O man, to talk back to God? "Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, 'Why did you make me like this?'" Romans 9:20

"I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted. Job 42:2

But the plans of the LORD stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations. Psalm 33:11

The LORD does whatever pleases him, in the heavens and on the earth, in the seas and all their depths. Psalm 135:6

What did we learn and how has his life affected ours?

We talked about what I could have done differently? Is there anything that we can think of that may have caused this? Of course, you just rack your brain to try to come up with solid answers or reasons...something you can know for sure, but these are exercises in futility. The Lord reigns. He does as He pleases to accomplish His purposes.

Something that dawned on me the other day was that the Lord could have taken our first two babies. It could have been something that happened before we had any other children, then this would all just be a distant story to them. But He waited until they were involved. He is actively training them too. He is taking an interest in my children, He wants to teach them through this. He didn't want them to miss out on the jewels of suffering and loss. It's not just about my husband and I.

Dawna sat and held Samuel so tenderly. I remember her holding him, she had her forehead to his forehead and she was talking to him. I wonder what she said?

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints.
Psalm 116:15

I wanted to share a little bit of the blessing that Dawna has brought with her music to this whole experience. She was there before, during and after Samuel's birth. Her worship was so sweet during such a hard time. I filmed a bit of her playing the other day on Samuel's birthday.

We had an apologetics meeting to go to that night. I had to bring something in honor of Samuel's birthday.

It wasn't spoken or announced and most people didn't know but I knew, and my kids knew...those little cupcakes with chocolate sprinkles were a small offering in remembrance of our son's birthday. To acknowledge the silent yet gigantic, gaping, bloody hole that exists in our family.

People are missing.

Happy Birthday our Sweet Samuel. How I wish you could be sitting in a high chair, with light blue, fluffy frosting smeared all over your face and us smiling at you while taking a million pictures, but that was not to be.

It never was.

It was never the plan.

We just thought it was the plan. We assumed. We expected things would go as we planned but God had a different and better plan. It doesn't feel better to me now, but in 100 years I will know how much better it was. And it will have been soooo much better.
So anyway, I made these cupcakes for you.

During the last year the biggest thing that I feel is the need to just be quiet. To sit, to consider, to get through, to survive...again.

This verse in Job has brought me great comfort amidst great sorrow. This is why I feel so quiet.

"He knoweth the way that I take."

What else can be said? What can be done? He knows how devastated I am, how dashed my hopes, all that has happened, heard all the careless words spoken...he knows it all and that brings me comfort because I know this is His earth and his world and although things would seem to the contrary, I believe I can trust Him. Read and be comforted yourself...

Streams in the Desert - April 22

He knoweth the way that I take.
Job 23:10
Believer! What glorious assurance! This way of thine-this, it may be, a crooked, mysterious, tangled way - this way of trial and tears. "He knoweth it." The furnace seven times heated - He lighted it. There is an Almighty Guide knowing and directing our footsteps, whether it be to the bitter Marah pool, or to the joy and refreshment of Elim.

That way, dark to the Egyptians, has its pillar of cloud and fire for His own Israel. The furnace is hot; but not only can we trust the hand that kindles it, but we have the assurance that the fires are lighted not to consume, but to refine; and that when the refining process is completed (no sooner - no later) He brings His people forth as gold.

When they think Him least near, He is often nearest. "When my spirit was overwhelmed, then thou knewest my path."

Do we know of One brighter than the brightest radiance of the visible sun, visiting our chamber with the first waking beam of the morning; an eye of infinite tenderness and compassion following us throughout the day, knowing the way that we take?

The world, in its cold vocabulary in the hour of adversity, speaks of "Providence" - "the will of Providence" - "the strokes of Providence." PROVIDENCE! What is that?

Why dethrone a living, directing God from the sovereignty of His own earth? Why substitute an inanimate, death-like abstraction, in place of an acting, controlling, personal Jehovah?

How it would take the sting from many a goading trial, to see what Job saw (in his hour of aggravated woe, when every earthly hope lay prostrate at his feet) - no hand but the Divine. He saw that hand behind the gleaming swords of the Sabeans - he saw it behind the lightning flash - he saw it giving wings to the careening tempest - he saw it in the awful silence of his rifled home.

"The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!"

Thus seeing God in everything, his faith reached its climax when this once powerful prince of the desert, seated on his bed of ashes, could say, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust him."

- Macduff

Rough packages

"The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him."

Psalm 25:14

There are secrets of Providence which God's dear children may learn. His dealings with them often seem, to the outward eye, dark and terrible. Faith looks deeper and says, "This is God's secret. You look only on the outside; I can look deeper and see the hidden meaning."

Sometimes diamonds are done up in rough packages, so that their value cannot be seen. When the Tabernacle was built in the wilderness there was nothing rich in its outside appearance. The costly things were all within, and its outward covering of rough badger skin gave no hint of the valuable things which it contained.

God may send you, dear friends, some costly packages. Do not worry if they are done up in rough wrappings. You may be sure there are treasures of love, and kindness, and wisdom hidden within. If we take what He sends, and trust Him for the goodness in it, even in the dark, we shall learn the meaning of the secrets of Providence. (A.B. Simpson, Streams in the Desert, May 6)


I just love Streams in the Desert. Sometimes I feel like Mrs. Cowman wrote this book just for me. Everyday the Lord uses it to nudge me along. And this one...oh how well this treasure has been hidden from me. And what a costly package Samuel was to unwrap.

How dark and terrible this has all 'seemed' (been). I long for the day when I can knowingly look back and honestly say how dark and terrible that all was but now I see the treasure the Lord gave.

"He maketh sore, and bindeth up; he woundeth and his hands make whole." Job 5:18

Stay firm, He has not failed thee

In all the past,

And will he go and leave thee

To sink at last?

Nay, He said He will hide thee

Beneath His wing;

And sweetly there in safety

Thou mayest sing.

Enter the cloud

“The LORD said He would dwell in the dark cloud."

I Kings 8:12

A few months ago I was reading The Beginner's Bible to my daughter. We came to Exodus when God gave Moses the 10 Commandments on Mt. Sinai.

God called Moses up to the mountain.

He wanted to talk to Moses.

The mountain shook.

A thick cloud covered it.

There was thunder and lightning.

God had come to the mountain in the cloud.

As I read that I sat there stunned. I couldn't keep reading to my daughter. I just froze as that last sentence boomed inside of my head. GOD HAD COME TO THE MOUNTAIN IN THE CLOUD.

As I sat there frozen, this idea swirled around inside of my brain a few times and hit me smack in the face. The idea that God is in the thunder and lightning. It's exactly opposite of what I had always thought. When God comes down and is near, it can be a very scary and chaotic time.

It's stormy.

It's not always a cloudless blue sky, it can be crazy.

It's scary.

It's not what you think it will be.

I sat there and stared at that picture of the black mountain and the grey clouds and the lightning...I froze, taking it in. I realized that was us.

We were in the cloud.

 A few days later I stumbled across this picture in one of our coloring books.

Again, this image of the swirling storm, the lightning...it's a frightening image. I ripped it out and put it on my dresser. I just felt I needed to save it.

Yesterday, I stumbled upon that coloring page while I was trying to clear off the piles on my dresser. As soon as I saw it I stopped. I strained my brain because it was all coming back to me and at the same time I was putting it together with yesterday's Streams in the Desert reading.

"Moses drew near unto the thick darkness where God was."   Exodus 20:21

God has still His hidden secrets, hidden from the wise and prudent. Do not fear them; be content to accept things that you cannot understand; wait patiently. Presently He will reveal to you the treasures of darkness, the riches of the glory of the mystery. Mystery is only the veil of God's face.

Do not be afraid to enter the cloud that is settling down on your life. God is in it. The other side is radiant with His glory. "Think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing has happened unto you; but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings." When you seem loneliest and most forsaken, God is nigh. He is in the dark cloud. Plunge into the blackness of it's darkness without flinching; under the shrouding curtain of His pavilion you will find God awaiting you.

Again, He is telling me to "wait patiently".

"He will reveal to you the treasures of darkness."

That struck me. We have always referred to our children as our Treasures, we call them T1, T2, T3, T4 and T5. Isabel and Samuel are our treasures of darkness.

"When you seem loneliest and most forsaken, God is nigh. He is in the dark cloud."

Oh, how forsaken we have felt these last many months, and how far God has seemed from us. Although I don't feel his smile upon us, I do take comfort in this. I know He is reaching out to comfort me and reassure me that although we are in the cloud, He is there with us.

Cookies in heaven

Tonight my daughter said "Mama, I'm thinking about our Samuel right now.

I'm thinking that when I get to heaven he will say, "I've been saving some cookies for you."

"Or cake and ice cream"

"and we will all sit down at God's long table to eat."

Skipping the dot

Through this whole ordeal with Samuel, our family has had many meaningful discussions. While I was still pregnant T1 (my 12 year old) and I were talking about our life...

I told him that our life just wasn't working out the way I had hoped. Papa and I had tried to serve the Lord since we were married and in my mind, somehow I thought if you are doing the right thing, life will be "good", or maybe it's just that what I thought was good wasn't really as important to God as it was to me. But our life has been hard in many ways of late. My husband was unemployed for most of 2009, we have a FOR SALE sign outside in the front yard...and we were going to be burying another baby. But as I pondered all of these things, I realized that what is most important to me, all that really matters is that we all get to heaven.

My son got really excited and told me that while he was reading this book, he started thinking about how loooong eternity is. It's mind boggling. He said, "Our lives are so short compared to eternity and yet where we spend eternity is all based on this short little period of time that we live."

Then he said, "When you think about it, who cares if our life is bad? Really Mama, WHO CARES?! As long as we make it to heaven. It's all that matters."

It's so true.

If you think of eternity stretched out as a never-ending horizontal line and our life represented by a small dot on this never-ending line, we realize how short our lives are. We can endure hardships for a mere 80-90 years can't we? Especially if we have an eternity of happiness to look forward to?

At Samuel's Memorial service they had an open mic for people to share. My friend's daughter (10 years old) shared that in her Bible study she was reading about how Jesus healed the blind man and how Jesus was the first person the blind man ever saw. Then she said, "Jesus was the first person Samuel saw."

A week after Samuel was born the kids and I were laying on my bed. I said, "Samuel has been in Heaven for one week today."

T1 said, "I remember when you said that about Isabel."

Really?

I did?

And you remember?

That was depressing.

I probably did.

I can't believe my kids had to hear me say that twice in 3 years.


So after I got over that, we lay there talking about what it must have been like for Samuel. We were daydreaming about it. He was in the womb, safe and warm and unaware of things, and then he was in heaven. It must have been like emerging, not as a baby hazily emerges from the womb, but waking up, fully conscious, fully aware...into heaven. That was all he would ever know in his life...heaven.

We lay there staring up at the ceiling, thinking of this concept in quiet contemplation when my son said,

"He skipped the dot."

"Samuel skipped the dot and went straight to the line."

We smiled together (me through tears) at the thought. We had just received a costly nugget of truth from God, something we had worked hard to earn.
We are living the dot.
The dot isn't important.
The line is.
Are you living your dot in order to get to the right line?

Death cannot divide

E'en for the dead I will not bind my soul to grief;

Death cannot long divide.

For is it not as though the rose that climbed my garden wall

Has blossomed on the other side?

Death doth hide,

But not divide;

Thou art but on Christ's other side!

Thou art with Christ, and Christ with me;

In Christ united still are we.

To us it seems our Samuel and Isabel have slipped through our fingers and are gone forever. But in reality, they are simply on the other side.

As the poem says, Death doth hide, but not divide. We all will live forever. As long as we're living this life, where we live out that forever is yet to be decided.

Are you sure where you will be spending it?

Jehovah has given

A wise son makes a glad father, But a foolish son is the grief of his mother.

Proverbs 10:1

This is my oldest son, Samuel's big brother. He is a gift from God. His name means "Jehovah has given".

He has really grown up during my pregnancy with Samuel. In the early months I was so tired and slept a lot. He kept the younger ones occupied for me. But after we found out Samuel would die, he went into overdrive. I cried often and I could see he was always trying to gauge how I was doing. I would be in the kitchen wiping my eyes and catch him looking at me, to see if I was really crying or just cutting onions. Many times I wished I could hide this all from them, that they wouldn't see me cry, wouldn't see their Mama falling apart. Sometimes when I would cry, they would just stare at me, like you might look on at an accident as you drive by. It was something new and strange. Other times, they would rush to me and hug me. This son seems to have become more of a man. Now when he sees me cry he comes to me and hugs me and says, "What is it Mama?"

As much as I wanted to sheild them from the horrible reality we were experiencing...I couldn't. And although it's natural to want to hide your tears, to cry in secret, that would have been silly. Do I really want them to think that we could lose a son, their brother, and be perfectly fine and normal?

No.

I want them to know how to go through hard things. Real things. When they get older I want them to be able to say to their families, "We lost two babies and it was very hard on Papa and Mama and us kids, but God held us together, we grew closer, we cried, we leaned on God, we praised God for things we couldn't understand, we asked that He be glorified through them somehow, we read the Bible and prayed as a family. That is what we will do in this hard situation we are in. They got through it by holding onto God and we will too."

Like I said, at times I have been sad ontop of sad for the innocence they have lost, and yet, what changed people they have become, like us.

We are different.

We have all been changed.

It has all come by the Lord's gracious hand. As much as I wish this wasn't happening I don't want to change what He is doing in us, because He knows. He knows so much better than we.

And I trust Him more.

More than the pain.

This son whom we call "T1" which stands for Treasure One (our first treasure) has also grown to love and appreciate his little sister more, if that is even possible. We have loved this little girl from the moment we met her and have greatly enjoyed our days with her. But this son has learned what a miracle a healthy baby is. One day a few months ago, he looked at his sister and told me, "She is growing up so fast. I will know Mama. I'll know to hold my babies."

The day after she was born, he came into my room and said, "Mama, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for having her. I just thought that I should say that." That was the nicest thing I think anyone has ever said to me. It was so sweet, that he would say thank you for carrying her and giving birth to her because he loved and enjoyed her so much after one day. He was seven at the time.

When everyone came in to see Samuel after he was born, they all crowded around Papa who was holding him. It was such a sad, sad moment. It was very quiet, no happy squeals or people oodling over his fingers and toes, only sober faces and hushed voices.

It's not for wimps.

The people that were there for us, had to go through it all with us...twice. And I can tell you, it's a whole lotta no fun. Dad, Mom, Laura, Desiree, Dawna and Renee had to walk into that hospital room knowing what they were going to face.

Heartbroken people...and a sweet little dead baby.

I felt bad for them too.

Papa asked if the kids wanted to hold him, my oldest said yes right away. It was his baby too. It seemed he knew it was something he should do, he was doing what Papa did.

He sat there looking at him for a moment, then he broke down.

You were a brave boy Son...both times.

The day I realized I hadn't felt Samuel moving and was going to the birth center to have Desiree listen for his heartbeat I pulled him aside and told him the truth about what we were doing. He simply nodded at me and said, "Okay."

On the drive we were listening to the dramatized audio version of John Bunyan's book, Christiana. He was sitting in the front seat beside me. There is a saying that is said often in this audio, they say "The bitter must come before the sweet." When it was said, he looked at me and nodded. He didn't want me to miss the truth in it. He was always trying to help me to see God in the midst of this trial.

The night we came home from the hospital, my husband put the boys to bed. I heard sobs from the bedroom. T1 had said to my husband, "I wanted to see his first birthday. I wanted to see him grow up."

It hit me.

He feels like we do.

It was his little brother that he had hopes and dreams for too.

God is grooming him to be a great Papa someday.

I was driving in the car by myself the other day. Thinking and crying about Samuel. I was thinking about what a helper this son has been during our time with Samuel. What a blessing. What a gift...when it hit me like a ton of bricks.

His name!

Jehovah has given him...to us...to show His love for us.

He is his name.

A loving gift that made me cry all over again in gratefulness to God.

Thinking of you

I'm thinking of you tonight Samuel.

It's hard to believe I had a baby less than two months ago and here I am again, going on with life 'as usual'. No baby carrier with you in my shopping cart. I see little ones and my eyes linger over them, comparing them to you. Would you be older? If you had lived, would my baby be that size or bigger?

It feels so wrong.

I miss you.

I miss life when it was normal. I could carelessly take so much for granted.

It was fun to look forward to you, before we knew that you too, would leave us. So many daydreams I entertained Little One. Of you and me, me holding you, Papa holding you, the kids holding you...you get the idea. There was a lot of love that was to be lavished upon you.

Sigh.

There still is.

Like I said, I'm thinking of you tonight Samuel. And missing you.

A poem for Samuel

If I could go back

Back to before the hopes and dreams

Before the heartache and sorrow

Before all the tears

I wouldn't Samuel.

I wouldn't

Because now I know you.

I know your face.

You are one of us now.

You belong to us

And I would never want to undo that.

I wish I could have seen your little face

break out into smile.

To hear you laugh that baby laugh

Watch you nurse

Play peek-a-boo with your brothers and sister

Watch you sleep on Papa's chest

in the dim light of the lava lamp

But we will have to wait for all those things.

We will spend our lives dreaming of you

And the days ahead when we will get to know you

As you truly are.

Not just an adorable little face

But you as God created you.

Until then, grab your sister's hand.

Enjoy Heaven.

When you see that one of us is coming

Wait for us at the gate.

Samuel Angus - October 21, 2009

I woke up on Tuesday, October 20th and lay in bed thinking about the day, talking to the kids and giving them jobs to do. As I lay there alone on the bed, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't felt Samuel move for a while. I called my midwife, Desiree.

We decided I should go to the birth center and let her listen with the doppler. The birth center was closed that day and I had the kids wait in the van.

I lay on the bed in the birthing suite that I had dreamed of having a baby in. It was so surreal, that I would find out that he had died in this very room. The very room that I had daydreamed about having Samuel in.

It felt so cruel.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, tears rolling down my cheeks as Desiree listened in vain for a heartbeat. She was crying too.

I met my husband at the local hospital to have an ultrasound to confirm Samuel had died. I was 32 weeks. We went home and packed our bags and went to the hospital to be induced.

Samuel Angus was stillborn at 7:25 am October 21, 2009. He weighed 5 lbs 9 oz and was 18 inches long.

He was beautiful.

Re-opening the wound

I was sitting on the couch when my oldest son came rushing in the door with my daughter in his arms. She was crying. She was wearing shorts and her knee was bleeding.

Wait...rewind.

A few days before she had skinned her knee on the cement and it was the kind that really hurt. Sort of like a burn. You know the kind?

It had healed over with a scab and at least it didn't hurt anymore. So now you're up to speed.

Okay, so my son came rushing in, put her in my lap. She had fallen AGAIN and opened up her scab. Now it was bleeding, a lot. It was the really thick, dark red blood. It scared her and it hurt.

It was a little more than a week since we had the ultrasound that had shattered our dreams again.

She looked up at me with big tears flooding her eyes and said through her sobs, "I don't want to do it again."

I instantly fell apart with her and burst into tears. I cried with her as I hugged her and said, "I know just what you mean honey." It felt so strange and so perfectly parallel that I sensed the Lord was trying to say something. But what?

The next night I was giving her a bath. She didn't want to put her knee in the water, she was afraid it would hurt. I was telling her it needed to be cleaned so it would heal. I heard myself saying,

Does Mama love you?

Does Mama want to hurt you?

Trust me.

It will be okay.


While I was speaking the same little bell went off in my head, that the Lord was trying to tell me something.

I don't understand or feel better. But I do trust Him.


-----


Leave it With Him

"Consider the lilies, how they grow" (Matt. 6:28)

I need oil," said an ancient monk; so he planted an olive sapling. "Lord," he prayed, "it needs rain that its tender roots may drink and swell. Send gentle showers." And the Lord sent gentle showers. "Lord," prayed the monk, "my tree needs sun. Send sun, I pray Thee." And the sun shone, gilding the dripping clouds. "Now frost, my Lord, to brace its tissues," cried the monk. And behold, the little tree stood sparkling with frost, but at evening it died.

Then the monk sought the cell of a brother monk, and told his strange experience. "I, too, planted a little tree," he said, "and see! it thrives well. But I entrust my tree to its God. He who made it knows better what it needs than a man like me. I laid no condition. I fixed not ways or means. 'Lord, send what it needs,' I prayed, 'storm or sunshine, wind, rain, or frost. Thou hast made it and Thou dost know.'"

Yes, leave it with Him,The lilies all do,
And they grow--They grow in the rain,
And they grow in the, dew--Yes, they grow:
They grow in the darkness, all hid in the night--
They grow in the sunshine, revealed by the light--

Still they grow.
Yes, leave it with Him
'Tis more dear to His heart,
You will know,
Than the lilies that bloom,
Or the flowers that start
'Neath the snow

Whatever you need,
if you seek it in prayer,
You can leave it with Him
for you are His care.