Five months into the pregnancy we felt it was time.  Time to share our news.  A baby was on the way.  And so we gathered everyone together just before bedtime and told them.  We told them our good, good news.  It was a surprise for all.  One celebrated being a big brother…again.  One celebrated the possibility of having a little brother.  One celebrated, because everyone else was celebrating.  And one…cried.  Cried  and cried and cried.  Why? Why are you crying?  Unsure, uncertain about the tears we rubbed this one’s shoulders and quietly left him on his bed.

I retreated to my room – conflicted in my own thoughts – wondering why this child was so distraught.  When suddenly he appeared and amidst choking sobs whispered in my ear, “I prayed.”  A questioning look from me brought more choked words, “I’ve been praying, Momma.   Praying that God would give us a baby.”  Then, just as quickly as he came, he left the room.  And I was left to wonder.  He had been praying for a baby?  Why not!

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