Hope’s Backstory

January 15, 2018 at 3:16 pm

For two years I’ve thought about writing this post. For two years I haven’t felt ready to do it. I suppose, like Mary, I have “kept all these things and pondered them in my heart.” Today I feel ready.

 

This morning, I awoke as I usually do, with a wiggly blonde toddler named Hope next to me, her still-drowsy voice piercing my sleep, “Mommy… Mommy…” She slid her body on top of mine, no small feat with my growing 24-week-pregnant belly. I gently moved her to my other side, her head nestled in the crook of my arm, pulled her close, and kissed her nose. While I looked at her face, her cheeks still round with lingering baby fat, she scratched at something on her chin. I kissed her cheek. She smiled. In my mind, I silently but feelingly prayed:

Thank you, God, for sending her to me. Thank you. Thank you.

She wasn’t really supposed to be mine. I have known that since the day she told me her name, curled peacefully in my womb, just a few months before emerging as my fifth child. But my heart knew who she was. My heart remembered so clearly that day in January of 2012 when I wrestled with God, unsure whether I could accept the gift being extended to me. My fourth baby was still an infant at the time. For several days I had been trying to wrap my head around a vivid dream I had been shown. I won’t re-hash the details of the dream, but you can read them HERE.

My initial interpretation of the dream was that God wanted to send me a little girl, a “rescue,” or what some have called a castaway, a spirit who has previously been aborted. A few days afterward, I had another vivid dream in which I was unexpectedly pregnant. When I woke up, my heart told me that the two dreams were connected.

On January 12, 2012, I wrote in my journal:

That morning, my heart burst open, tears streamed down my face, and I felt myself telling God and that sweet girl: “Yes! I am willing! Yes! I want to love this child!”

When I first told my husband about my dream, he didn’t want to believe that there was another child God wanted to send us. We were both very overwhelmed with parenting the four we already had. He suggested that the dream was telling us where our 4th baby had come from. At the time I wasn’t open to that interpretation. I felt very clearly that there was another baby girl who wanted to come to us.

In the end, we were both right. When I was ready to hear it, I learned that my 4th baby was, in fact, a castaway. And when I learned that my 5th baby was a girl, it wasn’t long before I realized that she was the little girl I had once been certain wanted to come to us. My dream had multiple layers of meaning, as visions from the spirit realm often do.

My understanding is that there is an area of the pre-Earth spirit realm where “re-assigned children” wait for their time to be be sent to a willing mother. This is not “reincarnation”–these spirits were never given the opportunity of life outside the womb. Sarah Hinze’s book Songs of the Morning Stars includes a near-death experience in which a woman was shown this part of heaven. It is clear from many of the accounts of those who remember being aborted that there is still some healing that may need to occur after the spirit has come to Earth. Myself and others have wondered at times, why wouldn’t they have been completely healed in heaven?

[Read Cherie Logan’s remarkable vision of the “Cast Off Ones” HERE.]

As I have pondered the aborted children waiting in heaven, the answer that has come to me is that some of them are completely healed by Divine Love. But I have felt impressed that it is all governed by choice. Some of these children choose to receive complete healing of their previous womb trauma. However, I believe the aborted are also given another option: to retain a portion of their memory of the experience upon returning to Earth. I feel that some of these children accept a mission to bring to light the reality of their existence and the truth about the trauma experienced by the aborted. My 4th baby, now almost seven years old, was one of these courageous souls who chose to retain her scars. Just a couple of days ago, she reminded me about a dream that has tortured and terrified her for years. In that dream, hands come out of nowhere and poke and cut her repeatedly with knives (sounds eerily similar to a second trimester abortion procedure).

My fifth baby, however, filled my womb with pure love and gratitude. I felt impressed that she was among those castaways who had already experienced healing. Her soul was full of nothing but joy and gratitude for the opportunity to be born. She had come, just as my second dream had predicted all those years before, through a very unexpected pregnancy. But she had also won my heart, despite my fears and trepidations, just as she had in the vivid dream where I first saw her blonde head and pleading eyes asking for a home.

This morning, as I looked down at my daughter’s exquisite face and told God, “Thank you,” it was with complete knowledge that she was a gift originally intended for someone else. So many times in the short two years of her time with us, I have been overwhelmed by the immense gratitude I feel for this opportunity to love and be loved by her.

 

Last night, we were reading as a family the words of Isaiah. He said: “Listen, O isles, unto me; and hearken, ye people, from far; The Lord hath called me from the womb; from the bowels of my mother hath he made mention of my name” (49:1). I asked my children what they thought he meant. We talked about how we can be sent to earth with specific missions and callings, how our mothers can even be given knowledge about what those missions are while we are within their wombs.

Even now, within my womb, there grows a child with an important mission. I have been given to know a great deal about him. His name is Elijah. I have been given the knowledge that he is a healer. His backstory includes eons of waiting, but he has spent a great deal of that time among the castaways, uplifting and healing them. I feel that he formed a special bond with my 4th baby in that pre-earth spirit realm and was instrumental in her developing the courage to come to my womb. In fact, I feel that he joined her there briefly to ease the transition. I also believe he was instrumental in preparing my fifth baby, Hope, to come to earth and in inviting me to accept her as my own. He has a deep love for these Cast Off Ones, and I feel that part of his mission on earth will be to encourage mothers to accept them, to turn the hearts of the mothers to these children.

 

Perhaps it was Elijah himself, gently nudging within my womb, who gave me the courage to write this post today. Perhaps his spirit is calling out to your mother heart to turn, to be willing, to accept a precious gift like my Hope.