My Daughter, My Pearl
Adapted from Love Letters to God: Deeper Intimacy through Written Prayer (Multnomah Publishers) by Lynn D. Morrissey

I had been married for seventeen years when, for my fortieth birthday, God delivered a surprise present wrapped in pink: a precious baby daughter named Sheridan. She’s a treasured pearl I absolutely cherish, but one I initially struggled to receive.

I had never wanted to be a mother; the prospect frightened me to death. I was intimidated by the enormous responsibility of raising a child as well as by my many inadequacies. I knew nothing about children or interacting with them. I had a morbid fear of dying in childbirth, which having a child at forty only exacerbated. I was petrified! Numerous things could go wrong with the baby or with me.

Even though the pregnancy was uncomplicated, I dreaded the long haul, feeling as if I would be raising a child until I was eighty! How would I survive? Where would I find the physical stamina necessary to keep pace with an active toddler? How could I have the fortitude to combat twenty‑first‑century evils that would undermine my parenting at every turn? I also didn’t want to leave a career of twenty years that I truly enjoyed. The big picture overwhelmed me, and I felt trapped.

A well‑meaning Christian friend suggested abortion. Her advice only increased my struggle. I knew that this child was not a cosmic accident, but God's creation, whom He was intricately forming “layer by layer” in my womb. I didn't doubt God's will, yet I fought intensely against accepting it. I felt extremely pressured by my own deepening fear of all the unknowns. Though I wrestled repeatedly with God, I finally surrendered and penned this prayer of acceptance:

“Dear Lord, my body contains a secret seed, immortally conceived, mortally sown. Momentarily, I enfold creation. A fragment of eternity forms concentrically like a pearl. Can I bear weight of priceless cargo? Can my broken vessel store treasure of such worth? Can my earthen jar contain a soul outlasting every star? Can I refuse? Can I uproot the hidden seed? Can I coerce the Potter to remold my brittle clay—remake my fragile vessel for some other use?

“I can consent. I can surrender to Your engendering Spirit. I can open myself freely to Your infilling glory. I am willing to unveil the pearl at any price. I will become a chalice for my Maker's grace.”

Although I refused to abort, I didn't gracefully aquiesce to motherhood. I rebelliously complained, questioning God's wisdom and resenting His timing: How could this child be a gift? How could I raise her when I didn't even know how to change a diaper? How could I leave a twenty‑year career and financial security? Wouldn't I look ridiculous as a forty‑year‑old dinosaur swapping diaper‑rash remedies with my twenty‑year‑old counterparts?

Although my emotions vacillated between anger and apathy, I prayed that God would change my heart, grant me courage, and endow me with motherly feelings. I clung to the truth that, despite my opinion, this child was God's gift and blessing, His treasure and pearl.

Then it happened. From the moment I first held Sheridan, God miraculously replaced my callous heart of stone with a mother's heart of tenderness. I wrote in my journal: “Oh, God! Now that I see, touch, and talk to her, everything—absolutely everything—is different! Oh, God, thank You. Thank You. Thank You for my beautiful baby!"

When Sheridan was born, I did leave my career. And when God brought me home to raise her, He gave me not just my little “pearl girl,” but a luminescent pearl necklace of blessings: He fulfilled my dream of becoming an author and unexpectedly transformed me through the influence of my little girl. Sheridan was my "mid-life replacement therapy"—replacing my lethargy with her energy, my depression with her joy, my cynicism with her optimism, my jadedness with her innocence, my workaholism with her play. I grew mentally as she and I explored her world, emotionally as I loved her, and spiritually as I became completely dependent upon God for my mothering. What I had originally perceived to be the unwelcome grit of difficulty and fear, God transformed into pearls of beauty and delight.

Lynn D. Morrissey is founder of Journaling Unleashed, a ministry for reflective journal-writing, an AWSA and CLASS speaker, author of Love Letters to God: Deeper Intimacy through Written Prayer and other books, contributor to numerous bestsellers, and professional soloist. She, her husband Michael, and daughter Sheridan live in St. Louis, Missouri. She blogs at Set Free Today