The doctor said some scary words today: “I only know how to be blunt. I don’t want your baby to die.” I sat on the end of the wax-papered exam chair and inhaled a long breath.
Here we go again.
Six years ago our first-born arrived with the same fear: death. Now the doctor thinks baby girl might die?—my fluid is really low and she is not able to grow well—among numerous other possible harmful effects.
My prescription? “Monitor” her movement. Come in right away if she decreases or I am worried.
What is too little? When should I call? Should I just pack up and moved to the doctor’s office? Of course I’m worried.
I can’t do this, God. I can’t do this.
I leave the doctor and call the hubs. Plans tossed in the air. Ideas. Dreams. Cute little onsies. Ruffles. Baby carrier. Butt paste—all tossed in the air.
Where will they land? Only God knows. Only God sees. Only God can cause babies to grow and live. Only God.
Faith and lament.
Fear and courage.
Doubt and hope.
Stir together within.
Make a complex soup.
If only my faith could out shine my humanity.
But then I turn towards the Scriptures. The truth. The living Word—alive and active.
Yet You are He who brought me forth from the womb;
You made me trust when upon my mother’s breasts.
Upon You I was caste from birth;
You have been my God from my mother’s womb.
And I pray:
Oh, Lord! You are the God of my own womb. Come now, be the God of my baby girl. Turn her towards You to experience Your presence and goodness even now. And continue to sustain her life and help her grow.
Again the Spirit leads me, now to
Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”
Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
And I pray:
God, Most High and Almighty. You are my refuge. You are the God in whom I trust. Save me and baby Charis from the fowler’s snare and from deadly pestilence. Cover us with your feathers and be ever faithful. We need You to shield us from every wicked thing and to deliver Charis healthy into our arms. In Jesus’ name I ask, Amen.
The truth of God is where my soul finds comfort—for the moment. Until my thoughts drift to wandering places—places of “it’s not fair” and “why me again?” Places that long to just have a healthy baby to hold and nurse.
Forget complaining about sleepless nights. I crave for many sleepless nights. And will cherish each moment as a gift—if the gift is allowed.
Where is God in all of this?
Right here. Reminding me to hold onto Him and not the fear. Reminding me that He is the maker of heaven and earth. Reminding me that as I trust in Him, He will direct my path.
But I still lie awake, my hand to my belly. Wanting her to move more than she does.
And I pray.
When all I can do is pray I realize that prayer is the most powerful thing I can do.
Are you going through a difficult season?
These three things are what keeps me nestled into the Lord: Wrestle, Word, and Worship.
I wrestle with the Lord. I cry out in fear, hurt, pain, sadness. I tell him my inner most secrets. The Spirit comforts me in return, reminds me of the truths of God that are hidden in my heart. Sometimes its a song, other times a verse, memory, or word from a friend.
Wrestle, dear friend. Wrestle with the Lord. He can handle all our emotions. The enemy wants us to blame and run away. God is calling us to lament and run towards Him. Tears are welcome. Shouts are welcome. Doubts are welcome. God is ready for it all.
His Word is the place where He speaks in return to us. Instructing us in truth to dispel the lies. Reminding us of His faithfulness throughout all generations. In times like this, when I know I need His truth, but don’t know where to read, I start in the Psalms. Then, let the Spirit lead to where I should read after that.
Sometimes worship is a sacrifice—we choose to declare who God is despite our current circumstances. When I choose to worship Him in song, prayer, and attitude during deeply hurtful times, I deliberately place myself under His leading. When I refuse to worship Him, I am allowing the enemy to form a wedge between us.
Worship. Worship Worship. He will meet you there. Worship Him in whatever way draws you into His presence in declaring who He is. Pray, sing, dance, paint, walk, and/or speak out scripture. Just worship.
I return to the doctor on Friday to check my fluid level and go from there. In the meantime, I am wrestling, digging in His Word, and choosing to Worship.
Whether God chooses to give or take away, blessed be His name.
PRAY: Father, I pray for baby Charis and all babies with life-threatening conditions. Please sustain her life by the blood of the Passover Lamb. Heal any and every possible wrong thing and bring her through the dark womb into the light of her mother’s arms. In Jesus’ name I ask, AMEN.
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