Continually God shows up! There are days when strength seems sapped and I wonder, oh Lord, what are you doing? And, instead of answering the burning question, his Spirit comes and gives me what I need.

As I sat pondering that particular day, God brought to mind Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.  Three men known for not bowing to king Nebuchadnezzar and being thrown into a blazing furnace, they make an impression and a great story.  As I re-read Daniel 3 however, God directed my heart to the statements about Himself.

Daniel 3:17-18: “If the God we serve exists, then He can rescue us from the furnace of blazing fire, and He can rescue us from the power of you, the king.  18. But even if He does not rescue us, we want you as king to know that we will not serve your gods or worship the gold statue you set up.”

My heart and eyes landed on the words, “but even if He does not rescue us.”  Knowing the rest of the story, I knew they were thrown into the furnace, but that God was with them in it and that He saved them from it.  Still those words and that concept … God is able to save, but I must be willing to surrender my body to the flames.  God is able to save this baby, but if he does not I must praise!

Questions had been burning in my mind, but now it was as if God was asking me the questions.  Would I praise HIM in all things?  Was I willing to be thrown into the furnace … to give up my son, to surrender to His plan?  I think the question remains and is continual.  I pray I am found … surrendered, praising.

Processing the birth of a baby, even a healthy baby, is a journey.  Instead of two, now you are three … instead of thinking about two mouths to feed, you’re thinking about a third.  Will you use bottles, will you breastfeed … how will you be a parent?

Into the mix enters a complication … for us it just happened to be lack of amniotic fluid.  All other questions are put on hold and everything urgent moves to the forefront.  Will this baby survive?  What happens if the baby is born at home at 19 weeks, at 20 weeks, at 21 weeks?  What happens, what happens, what happens?  Scenarios are plentiful, but answers really aren’t.  God knows His plan … we know Him.

Grappling with these questions was hard enough.  Other questions ran deeper … God, what are you saying?  Am I ready to let go?  Am I ready for a child? What do I want?  What do you want?  Is this baby going to live?  Is this baby going to live? The question I was really asking was, is this baby going to die?

I often listen to the pastor from our church in Franklin, TN via podcast (it makes a workout speed by).  He happened to be taking a break from the usual series that Sunday to talk about heaven.  His son was killed in a car crash about a year prior and a book has been written on all God has taught them (www.haveheart.net for more info.) He was speaking about being swallowed up by life.

My heart soared to hear those words again.  I am ALIVE.  Resting in relationship with Christ now, I will be truly LIVING when I am clothed in the newness that comes from living outside this earthly body.  Death will be for me, as Paul says, a gain, a graduation of sorts.  There is so much that burdens this earthly life as we are on a journey, not at home.  God reminded me that He is the God of the living and not of the dead (matt. 22:32).  Whatever He brings about is good.  If our son lives here to journey with us, we will rejoice in that.  If he LIVES in heaven, having been swallowed up by life, we will rejoice in that.  Either way, our son lives.  There is no death; and in that is great joy.

It had been several weeks of dr. visits, information, thoughts from strangers, family, friends’,  … the “input” list was intense.  Somewhere amidst all the information we just needed a break.  It’s like the saying, “everything in moderation.”  Even good things in bulk can be, well, not so good.  So, we went to a movie.

As the previews scrolled up guess what …  a documentary all about babies.  Grant and I sat there and smiled.  We looked at each other and I’m pretty sure I said, “Oh, that’s so cute.”  Considering what we’d just been through, in my mind, it seemed logical to cry and be sad, but I wasn’t.  No part of me was in pain.  I was all joy for these babies were delightful.  I remember the documentary preview now more than the movie … in fact; I’m not sure what we saw.  But, the peace of God was there in that theatre – with us as we left.  He is walking with us, enabling us to do that which He has called us to.

I have had more joy not understanding – just accepting.  Each day brings a new question, a new joy, and the deep abiding peace that can only come from Jesus.

I was thinking, hard, but couldn’t for the life of me, think where I lived.  I knew it was a place I’d grown up.  I’d lived there a long time, but nothing was coming to my mind.  The longer I stood there, the more helpless I felt and tears threatened to undo me.  Communicative Failure!

Now, though in very different circumstance, I was once again on the brink of communicative failure.  I was experiencing the same dilemma.  We had been told women in my position went into labor, 70 percent of them anyway, within a week of the time their water breaks.   I’d beaten the odds so far, but not by much and each day was a new challenge to my thinking.  Would we make it?  Would we deliver a healthy baby?

How do you communicate things you don’t understand?  And wording … how should we word things so people didn’t think we were automatically going to miscarry, which was the assumption every time we spoke about our situation.  We didn’t have any amniotic fluid, but how did we explain our little one was still hanging on, over and over and over?  There was exhaustion to the effort on this verbal jungle gym and I was running out of fuel.

When you’re not sure which end is up, be still.   Be still and know that I am God (psalm 46:10).

I knew I wasn’t able.  Striving to communicate properly in any given situation, I’d inevitably fail.  Yet God was calling me to himself each day.  I was wanted (weak as I was) … it was beautiful.  In the quiet God met me and cleared up the jumble of “stuff” I was dealing with. It continues to be a place of trust, a haven … and as the clouds part it becomes clear just which way is up.

These next series of posts are written for record, but also that we may fill you in on what has taken place in the journey thus far … more emotions than details.  God has moved in and loved us, shown up to comfort us, and I believe taken the pressure we could not handle and lifted it just enough.  We are his treasure and He is ours!

So, as we backtrack … enjoy the journey! May you be blessed by the Love GOD is waiting to lavish on YOU!

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News of loss is never received with much joy … understandably so.  Upon first hearing we could lose this baby I wasn’t really thinking.  I was sitting in a dr.’s office listening to words coming at me, trying to hold myself together until I could get to a safety zone.  I wasn’t joyful, I wasn’t sad … I just was.

Entering the safe zone (home) we picked up where we’d left off.  We slept, worked, ate and proceeded to do what we’d been doing the night before when my water had broken so suddenly.  Before long, one sentence having something to do with God’s best for his children broke through into the painful truth that this child may not make it; and the torrent of tears I had been holding onto since the night before came gushing out.

I find it hard to describe what this moment was like.  I know it’s not necessary, nor can one truly grasp something until they’ve been there, but loss and mourning are universal and at some point it’s likely you will experience them both.   God met me as I wept.  I was frozen and hurting, but comforted.  It’s something I can’t even begin to put into words.  It is too precious to describe.

Matthew 5:4 says, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”  As I read this anew today I realized that I am blessed.  If I never have cause to mourn, to ache, to grieve … how can I know God as my comforter?  In this, God was choosing to reveal more of himself to me.  He was showing me his care for me, his care for this baby.   His comfort was just as real as the pain, and beautiful, so beautiful! Father, May it be to me as you have said.