Then my mom barely survived emergency open-heart surgery, and I stood by her hospital bed alongside my sister, overwhelmed with a sense of life’s brevity and an urgency to use my time well. At the end of my own life, I knew, I didn’t want to regret not welcoming a child God may have wanted our family to have.

But Russ didn’t seem to share my grief – until one night when we attended a living nativity presentation at a local church. "Oh, look!" Honor exclaimed. "They’re not just using a doll for Baby Jesus. That’s a real baby!" Russ gazed wistfully at the infant in thoughtful silence. Then he put his arms around me for the first time in a long while. Soon afterward, Russ agreed that we should try to reverse the vasectomy. He was willing to try, he said, so we could grow in our faith and our marriage.

I rejoiced, but felt those familiar pangs of fear again. A new baby would be stressful and expensive. We still couldn’t obtain enough life insurance. Honor would be at least 7 years old before any baby would be born – would the age gap be too great for them to bond? And since more than four years had passed since the vasectomy, the odds of successfully reversing it weren’t great. What’s more, our insurance wouldn’t cover any of the operation’s cost. It would take a full year’s worth of my earnings to pay for it ourselves.

But this time we both heard God’s voice speaking to us in the rhythm of our hearts and heads working together. We couldn’t predict what would happen, but we had to be willing to take risks for love – no matter what the cost. There was simply no other way to be faithful to the One whose love compelled Him to risk leaving heaven for earth that first Christmas.

A year and a half after we reversed the vasectomy, Justin James was born on December 23rd – just in time for Christmas! All the fears that had rained down so heavily on us before evaporated the moment we saw God’s gift to us in flesh and blood. "He has a wise old man face," my sister remarked as she gazed at his scrunched up newborn features. It took us awhile to welcome him, I thought, but we’re wiser now ourselves.

Since I had to spend two days in the hospital, we had to miss the Christmas Eve service at our church and all the family gatherings we usually attended. But when all the traditions were stripped away, what mattered most about Christmas – God’s love for us – remained. We thought of the manger often as we looked at our own newborn son, and rejoiced that the healing and joy God had offered us was incarnated in this little boy. We were looking at a miracle!

Soon after we brought Justin home, Russ, Honor and I worked together to give him a sponge bath. He wailed and wriggled in my arms, and for a moment, I felt those old stressful feelings well up in me again. But Russ made a funny face at him, Honor giggled, and Justin suddenly stopped crying. Then he fixed a curious gaze on each of us – one by one – for a few seconds. Finally, he let out a deep sigh of contentment. It was his way of saying he’d decided to trust us to take care of him. And we’ve decided to trust God for whatever the future might hold. After all, every new day of Justin’s life is a fresh opportunity to learn more about His love. That’s the best Christmas present we could ever have hoped to receive!