A Simple Prayer
I was surprised by the feeling of nausea that washed over me as I listened to the woman in my Bible study pray: “Lord, we lift up Sarah as she processes the concerning prenatal test results, and we ask … for the best possible outcome.” Based on the earlier conversation, I knew what was meant by “best possible outcome”—a baby born without Down syndrome.
A few years earlier I would not have had a second thought about such a prayer. This day, however, my gut responded with unpleasant waves of discomfort upon hearing those words. Of course, we should pray for healthy, happy, able-bodied babies! Shouldn’t we? God wants the lives being formed in the womb to be as functional and strong as possible. Doesn’t he?
Sitting in this room of Christian women who affirmed the prayer for health and wholeness, I suddenly became aware that I no longer shared their assumptions.
A Simple Expectation
As a young woman I confidently affirmed the value of all life. After getting married and becoming pregnant with our first child, I believed the logical decision to follow this conviction was to deny prenatal screening. I, along with my husband, believed that God would give us the children we were meant to have, and they would be created in his image.
When we approached the due date for our third baby, while we continued in the decision to reject prenatal screening, we chose to do something we had not with our first two. At my 32-week ultrasound, which was required due to concerns with the placenta, we decided to find out the sex. While there was some concern with the baby’s heart during the ultrasound, and a doctor was called in at one point to view the scan, we were eventually informed that everything looked great, and heard the announcement, “Congratulations, you are having a girl!”
March 24, 2003 was the day I stepped into a reality I never truly believed would be mine.
This was the day my simple expectation of having a girl turned upside down. It was the day God called me to accept the unforeseen arrival of a daughter with Down syndrome.
Her arrival brought with it the unsettling realization that neither ultrasound techs nor doctors possessed exhaustive knowledge. This was the day my heart was invaded by motherly fear of future pain and rejection. This was the day I questioned the capacity my daughter would have to comprehend Jesus, while simultaneously acknowledging the inadequacy of my own humanity.
This was the day weakness moved into the centre of my life.
A Sinful Heart
I grew up as the daughter of a hard working entrepreneur and feisty schoolteacher. They taught me the truth of the gospel, demonstrated incredible hospitality and service, and encouraged hard work. From a young age I recall striving with intense anxiety for the top marks, the most challenging assignments, and the highest recognition. It didn’t take long to realize that I had the ability to achieve most of what I set out to achieve.
Being raised by a dad who had overcome much hardship and exhibited uncompromising strength encouraged me to be a woman of determination and confidence. If I ever told my dad of some grandiose plan, he would simply reply, “I’m really excited to see how you’re going to make that happen!” While I know his way of challenging me to be the strongest and wisest woman I could be came from a heart of fatherly protection and a hope of success, I also know that my sinful heart quickly morphed my God-given abilities into sinful pride and self-sufficiency.
What happens when a strong, self-sufficient woman becomes the mother of a child whose almond-shaped eyes and hypotonic body shout to the world, “I am weak and dependent!”? By God’s grace, my eyes began to grow new lenses, and the truth became progressively—and beautifully—more clear.
An Unexpected View
The new lenses which God so patiently enabled me to peer through, as the mom of a child with Down syndrome, surprised me. They felt initially like a distorted mirror, which reflected an image unrecognizable to myself. What I had grown to see as honourable came into focus as sinful, and what I had pushed into the periphery as insignificant was in reality central.
With these new lenses, self-sufficiency revealed itself as prideful and foolish. My weaknesses, rather than insignificant disruptions that I pushed into the outer orbits of my life, suddenly became prominent and central. As I adjusted to this unexpected view, passages of Scripture I had read throughout my life came to mind and steadied me.
God’s Word pierced my heart. I slowly began to realize that verses in the Bible which addressed weakness were not meant to simply encourage a mother’s heart while gazing at her frail child. These were the words of God meant to reveal the fragility with which I was created.
The overt weakness of body and mind which my daughter displayed pointed me to the hidden weakness of my own body and mind. The new lenses, which moved weakness to the centre of my vision, enabled me to clearly view self-sufficiency as detrimental to living the mature life of humility God called me to.
What I began to see with increasing clarity was this truth: the strong, intelligent, and self-sufficient were not the greatest in the Kingdom of God; the weak, the lowly, and dependent were, because they knew they needed a Saviour and sought to live in dependence on him.
The Best Possible Outcome
The arrival of a little girl with Down syndrome is not the expected answer to most prayers for growing babies within their mothers’ wombs. Nor is such a life very often deemed valuable enough to have the opportunity to live.1
On March 24, 2003, however, I was given the best possible outcome for my pregnancy, my family, and my life: a daughter with Down syndrome, whom we named Elle Hope.
She was created in the image of God (see Gen. 1:26–27), fashioned in my womb precisely the way God intended (see Ps. 139). How God has blessed me through Elle’s life far exceeds the bounds of this article, but one central and undeniable truth I am grateful to understand as her mother is this: God’s desire for the lives he forms in the womb is for them to live with a humility which enables complete dependence on him, leading all who are blessed to witness it to live likewise.
he who is humble and contrite in spirit
and trembles at my word (Isa. 66:2b).
1 In Iceland, nearly all pregnancies with a confirmed Down syndrome diagnosis are terminated; in Australia, an estimated 90 percent of prospective parents choose termination once a high-chance screening result is confirmed. In Canada, prenatal screening and elective termination reduced live births of babies with Down syndrome by an estimated 54 percent in 2020.
