My Entrusted Life

January is Sanctity of Human Life Month. We begin to understand the sanctity of human life when we realize all humanity has been created in the image of God. As God’s image-bearers, we realize the dignity and worth of human life. More than that we recognize we are created by God and, therefore, we are not our own. Our bodies are not our own. We belong to God and are stewards of the life God has entrusted to us. The battle of the entrusted vs. entitled mindsets is a fight for life.

Doctors and Decisions

I do not speak in this manner as a detached pro-life advocate for human life. My story is an entrusted story. This story begins when my mother, believed to have had the flu, decided to go see a doctor. Since she had not yet had her period that month, her and my father discussed and agreed to go see a gynecologist. At the gynecologist, they found out my mother was pregnant. However, a reason for celebration quickly turned into a reason for concern. The gynecologist informed them, based on the tests they performed, the pregnancy was a molar pregnancy. According to WebMD, a molar pregnancy is when tissue that normally becomes a fetus instead becomes an abnormal growth in the uterus. They suggested that my mom have a D&C, a dilation and curettage, a procedure to remove tissue from inside the uterus. This procedure clears uterine lining and usually takes place after a miscarriage or for an abortion. My parents had a decision to make. Would they take the doctor’s recommendation and have the D&C or would they stand for the sanctity of life? For my parents, there was no wavering. Not agreeing to the doctor’s recommendation, my parents made an appointment for another doctor visit the following week. They trusted God that if my mother would miscarry it would happen naturally.

At the next regular doctor’s appointment, they did another ultrasound and found the baby had grown and looked to be normal size. Yet, another moment of celebration turned into a matter of caution. The baby’s heartbeat could not be found. It was not until five months into the pregnancy the heartbeat was finally picked up. Then, at seven months, the doctors thought the baby would be premature because my mother was already dilated to five. Medication was given so that she would not go into early labor but she could not tolerate it and had to discontinue prescriptions. A couple of months later, two weeks past the due date to be exact, my mother gave birth to a baby boy, Theron, weighing in at eight pounds and three ounces.

My Entrusted Story

When I reflect on the story of my mother’s pregnancy with me, gratitude swells up inside of me. Gratitude for my parent’s trust in God during a troubling and trying situation and season. Gratitude for my mother’s conviction her body was and is not her own but belongs to God. Gratitude ultimately for the grace of God, by which I’ve been born and born again. God chose to entrust life to a healthy baby boy, caused Him to be born again by the power of the gospel, and now entrusts him with the message of the gospel as a steward and ambassador for Christ. This is my entrusted story. This is my entrusted life.