Prayer for a baby sister
I was the first girl after three boys. You can imagine the JOY that flooded my mom’s heart when the doctor said, “It’s a girl!” “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said. His reply: This is one time that I never kid. And thus, the name she gave me, Debora Joy. Mom told me I got something like over 50 pink dresses from friends and family. Now, THAT’S a LOT!
Fast forward, approximately 3 ½ years later. I longed for a baby sister. While I felt loved, protected and cherished by my 3 older brothers, I wanted a baby sister that I could dress up, feed, play with, and play “dolls,” my favorite of all past times. Mom and Dad said, “No, there’s not going to be any more babies.” I prayed and prayed for a baby sister. I mean, EVERY NIGHT I prayed that God would give me a baby sister. When my mom listened to that prayer each night, she never tried to “squelch” it or discourage me. I think, instead, she felt encouraged at my faith and confidence that if I prayed repeatedly and consistently, God would give me my answer.
It was a few months after my 4th birthday, that mom and dad sat the four of us kids down and said that, yes, we were going to have another baby, but it might not be a sister.” “YAY, I knew it! God heard my prayer. And I KNOW for sure it will be a sister,” I exclaimed. “Debbie, honey, we cannot be sure it will be a girl baby. Only God knows.” “No, that’s not true. He told me I’d get a sister.”
And the nightly prayer for a sister continued. Mom and dad never “corrected” me. Sometimes my brothers would tease me or taunt me that I couldn’t be sure. But, I must’ve known, deep in my child-like faith. Ohhh, the faith of a child!
While I knew absolutely nothing about how babies come into this world, I did know that dad would take mom to the hospital and there, my baby sister would be born. For some reason, on the night of September 30th, I awoke and walked into my parent’s bedroom. “Mommy,” I whispered, “my baby sister is coming.”
I kid you not. A few hours later, in the wee hours of the morning, dad took mom to the hospital, and that morning, on October 1, my sister, Delora Lynn Peterson, was born. I think I was the only one amongst our family, that was not surprised at the arrival of a girl.
She was all I had hoped for. She let me dress her and feed her, and I became her second mommy. It was my first lesson that God heard me. That He honors the “desires of our heart.” He answered the prayer of a small child that evidently, was attuned to the inner voice of a God that speaks. The eve of her birth, I may have heard that “still small voice,” I don’t know. Whatever it was, it was pivotal to the shaping of my faith.
