Crushing the Serpent's Head

When I found out the squirmy little kicker I was carrying in my belly was a girl, and not the boy I'd (for whatever reason) anticipated, I was shocked. Okay, not so much shocked as unidentifiably anxious. And this was disquieting. I’d very much looked forward to having my first baby, boy or girl. So why this strange anxiety? Was I that disappointed to not have a boy?  


I dealt with the odd feelings quietly, feeling a bit like I was betraying some sacred maternal trust.  Hoping the tiny she-person in my tummy couldn’t feel my conflicting emotions.  Doing my best to make sure nobody sniffed out what felt like a deep, dark secret.

And then things slowly began to lighten, the shadows of unidentified emotions melted away, and I began to understand what was happening inside me.

For the known generations past, the fathers of my father's line have abandoned their children and their wives and gone on to pursue whatever pull was strongest. I guess my own father just expected that was the way it would all eventually go down.  He didn’t put up much of a fight.  My mother knew life could be different.  She knew the power of just making a choice - and she fought her hardest to keep him with us - but in the end, she had to let him go. And thus I gained the dubious notoriety of being one more of the daughters from my father's line who have been left fatherless.

And here I was, the fatherless daughter, having a daughter. 

I had one of those life moments, earlier in life, when my brother Paul and his wife were having their first little girl. I’ll tear up every time I think back to that first moment of understanding; when I realized that Paul, my dear little brother, would be the first to break our family’s fatherless cycle; the first to crush the serpent of destruction and abandonment that so long has stalked our family line.

And the light in my understanding grew brighter: suddenly it was my turn.

Thankfully, not too long before I met Jason, I'd discarded my own romantic choices and with heartfelt honestly asked God to assist me with choosing a husband. Faithfully, God listened and along with other wonderful male friendships, into my life came Jason. Steady, sure, strong Jason who never, ever backs down from the tough slopes of life. And behind him a family dedicated to God and each other. I knew I'd found the father for my yet-to-be children.



So here we are, four-plus years later. My little daughter is growing and blossoming. She will never know the long, painful hours of waiting endlessly and in vain for a daddy to come home - or even just to visit.  She won't ever taste the breaking disappointment of realizing there are things more beloved, more important than her precious little self. She'll only know the secure love and embrace of a family with roots deep in God's all-encompassing love and power of redemption. 

And as each year passes, I feel my heel grind down upon the serpent's head.