While in Mozambique babies are still sometimes born in the bush or at home (without a midwife), it has taken me four weeks—and the help of several kind people—to prepare a place, tiny clothes, and what we believe we’ll need for our third little boy.
And now I feel at peace.
The hospital bag is packed. Week thirty-eight has come and gone. Now we simply wait for our son to decide when he is ready to join us.
Whenever I’m in Poland, I find myself searching for the balance between what is truly necessary and what we could easily do without. By the third child, that list becomes remarkably short. You realize that what your baby needs most is you and your husband. Everything else is simply practical help—things that make the long days and sleepless nights a little easier. And those things have their place, too.
There are two realities that keep me grounded whenever I find myself gathering all these things.
The first is that we’re returning to Mozambique in February. Will we even be able to take everything we buy with us? Which naturally leads to another question: do we really need it?
The second is the tiny apartment we’re staying in. Will bringing more things into this space actually help us live more simply—or only make it harder?
Not long ago, my basement flooded. While cleaning it out, I threw away five cartloads of belongings that had been sitting there untouched for more than eight years. It turned out I didn’t need any of them. Yet once upon a time, every single one of those things represented money I had worked hard to earn.
Perhaps this doesn’t sound very spiritual at first.
And yet Scripture speaks clearly—not about storing up treasures that perish, but treasures that last forever.
“Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal.” Matthew 6:19-20 NLT
But what speaks even more deeply to me are the dangerous consequences of becoming preoccupied with what is temporary. The quiet danger posed to the heart—a heart that can so easily become attached to things that ultimately matter very little.
“Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.” Matthew 6:21 NLT
So let us be watchful in a world that is constantly trying to convince us that we need more.
This year, shaped by two previous pregnancies, I’ve decided to prepare in another way as well. Perhaps even more so because these past few weeks have been marked by fears and uncertainties surrounding childbirth.
A friend once told me, “The first birth is the easiest because you have no idea what’s coming. After that, you do.”
I know exactly what she meant. Those memories are still incredibly vivid.
As I approach labor, the hospital stay, and those first precious weeks afterward, I long to walk through them with God in a special way—in unity, in closeness, in communion, in peace. Especially because I know how difficult it can be to remain aware of both His presence and my own soul during that season, when nights are broken into fragments and days lose all order, long before life settles into its new rhythm.
That’s why I’m returning once again to two programs in an app created by John Eldredge. Many of you may know him from Wild at Heart. The resources he has created alongside his more recent books have been extraordinary companions for me, and I’ve returned to them time and again at different seasons of life—especially whenever I’ve needed an external rhythm to help me come back to meeting with God, or when my soul has felt scattered and unsettled.
They are simple morning and evening recordings, each about ten minutes long, gently helping you remain close to God. Sometimes, they may be all you have the capacity for in a particular season of life—and that’s perfectly enough. Or they may become the doorway into longer, more personal times with Him. Either way is beautiful.
The app is called One Minute Pause, and the two programs I’m using are 30 Days to Resilient and Experience Jesus.
Dear friends, there is much stirring within me, but nothing more I feel ready to share publicly. So I’ll leave you with these thoughts as we wait for our little one to arrive.
Because sometimes missionary life is simply about multiplying. 🙂
As for me, I’m returning to waiting—and to being present.
And if any of you would like to support my writing, as always with my Monday reflections, you’ll find a link to my creator page here: www.buymeacoffee.com/anna7dabrowska.