A Miscarriage

Several months ago a close friend told me she was pregnant. After years of difficulty trying to conceive, this news took me by surprised.  I was instantly filled with joy for her, and instantly filled with dread. I hated it, but I had a very real sense of fear. Her soon to be family seemed to be too good to be true. My first thought was,

“What?!!!? Are you sure?? Are you kidding??”

My second thought was, “Don’t. Move. A. Muscle.” 

This was a miracle. I wanted to see this little miracle be born at full term; pink, healthy and screaming. 

We have our own little miracle we’re working on. I don’t have a baby on the way; but I am tiptoeing on dangerous ground. I feel like I am coming to the end of a high risk pregnancy. I’ve been careful. I’ve followed Dr.’s orders. I’ve eaten plenty of leafy greens. I haven’t lifted over 5 pounds, and I’ve limited my coffee. (Now you know I’m joking here). All signs point to health. 

“Baby looks good.” as they say. If I can make it full term, I’ll have two boisterous girls lighting up my life with their laughter and love. 

I’m scared. I don’t want to be scared. I don’t like to be scared. I’d rather be strong and fearless. I’d rather have the valor of Jael, or the courage of Esther. But I’m just scared. I’m scared for me, for us, and for them. I’m scared of what may happen, what may NOT happen, and how long everything will take. I’m scared of things falling through, governments changing, or travel going awry. I’m scared because my family is hopelessly precious to me.

This winter hosting only deepened our love for our girls, and them for us. Summer hosting was superglue bonding. Winter hosting was the duct tape you wrap around for good measure. I’ve tasted this joy. I’ve felt the warmth of this goodness. I’ve embraced the tears as I’ve soaked up the laughter. I don’t want to see it fade. I don’t want it to slip out of my fingers into the darkness.

I’ve dreamed the dream and I’m aching for it to come true.

I have to choose to love instead of fear. I have to push onward instead of crumble to my knees. I need to breath deep, walk forward. I need to wait. I need to trust. I need to be strengthened. I need to grow.

I am choosing to be thankful for every moment I’ve been given. I am choosing to be thankful that my eyes were opened. I am choosing to be thankful that the world has needs I felt I should try to answer. I am hoping for good, but I know I have already been blessed beyond my worth.

As this fear and valor clash in my core; I have no choice but to run straight into the arms of my Daddy. He knows what we need. He is for my good. He is my comfort and calm. My only shelter from the chaos and source of contentment. He’s had this in his hands long before it was in my heart. He will see us through full term.

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Author: Elizabeth Joy Woods

Bringing lighthearted honesty to your journey with Jesus, with a little wisdom, courage and hope along the way.

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