Evod, Our Dove.

Life and death, and all that's in between, has the ability to cause tears to sometimes cease, while smiles take their place on our faces and the salt water sits, pressed against our eyes, on standby waiting for the next time they are called to stream down our cheeks. Sometimes, tears fall until puddles nearly surround us. Our hearts can feel so full and sometimes so broken it's a miracle that the organ, itself, still works... in moments like these. 

My Tia Lina, my best friend, passed away while I was pregnant with Evod. After she died, I hurt so badly that I could hardly feel any emotion at all and yet I was so grateful for the life growing inside of me; the irony and beauty of death and life. My Uncle sent out thank you cards (for those who sent flowers and such to her celebration ceremony) and on the front was a dove. And that is when I spelled "dove" backwards; "E-V-O-D", and right away Eric and I both liked the name, 'Evod', for our son. Initially his name was going to be short and I liked, loved, it being linked to my Tia. 

Then, as my pregnancy progressed things got more and more grim and the doctors continued to encourage me to terminate my pregnancy. Willingly ending our baby's heartbeat wasn't an option for Eric and I, even though our situation wasn't  easy. Thankfully, even though (every time) we had an ultra sound they prepared us for the possibilities; for the worst, Evod always appeared healthy and was doing so well (against all odds, against all medical logic). So, the Lord led Eric and I, separately, to name our sweet unborn son, 'Evodence', because even before breathing in air or saying his first word, he was already evidence of our Lord's goodness, mercy, and sovereignty (his name is pronounced like the word, "evidence" and carries its same meaning). 

As I was facing giving birth for the first time, the doctors prepared me for the possibility of giving birth to a still born baby. The thought was unbearable, but I surrendered my fear and clung to hope as best as I could. When the time came, I labored naturally, feeling the full extent of every long lived contraction, praying that the pain would bear fruit of a living baby. God literally gave me a song to sing when the pain of giving birth, combined with the agonizing possibility of not being able to hold my sweet son with a heart beating inside of him, got to be too much. Many hours later, Evod was born... I waited for the cries. They came! They placed him in my arms and I held him close to my chest, our heartbeats collided as they did, just mere moments before, from the inside of me. Even then, just seconds, minutes old, he would look so deeply into my eyes and brought such a unique and powerful joy to my heart. 

Now, nearly six years later, we are facing quite the storm together and God is reminding us of why He led us to name our boy, "Evod", then "Evodence". A dove represents peace and hope, we have hope in our living God and His peace dwells inside of us in spite of all the uncertainty and pain. And, our son is continuing to be living evidence of all that he was while he was still living, growing, and being woven inside of me. His very name brings us hope and what a gift that is! Our God is seeing us through and even when the sky is dark, and fog surrounds us, we can still see evidence of God's goodness, His love and hope all around us, like beaming sun rays shining through the storm clouds above. 

Bi-Polar Disorder, Intractable Epilepsy, Autism Spectrum Disorder, On-Set Schizophrenia, Anxiety Disorder, and all that overflows from such things, don't have the ability to rid us of hope. Hope still lives here.

 Always will. Love is alive.