God – Hand Me Downs

You stand and wait, glancing around the room. Maybe you tap your foot just a bit and shuffle your weight from leg to leg. You hear a bell chime and you watch as the doors slide open with a swish. Without hesitation you step on and select your floor. The doors swoosh shut and you feel the pull through your body as you’re lifted up through the elevator shaft. Stepping onto the elevator is kind of an example of how faith works. You can’t see the cables that hold the metal box of death, but you know they are there and you trust them.

Hebrews tells us that faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. You know the elevator is going to take you to the floor you select without crashing to the ground even though you can’t see the cables and pulleys. But what happens when you’ve gotten on the elevator and it’s crashed. What do you do when your faith has been shaken. When you struggle to ‘see’ past what your eyes see?

Over the last four years I have had to fight hard for my faith. Sometimes harder than I ever expected. There have been times that my vision has been so trained on what I’m seeing in the natural that it can be challenging to refocus my sight on what’s happening in the supernatural. In other words, it’s hard to trust what I can’t see and trust in Gods plan, when things around me look and feels terrible. Does this make me, or you if this is your struggle too, a bad Christian? No, it makes us human. God knew that we would have times where we would struggle to keep our eyes on Him and off the circumstances around us.

This exact situation happened in Matthew chapter 14. The disciples were in a boat in the middle of a lake and they were struggling against the wind. The boat was rolling about on the waves and when they looked out across the water they saw Jesus walking ON the water toward the boat! Initially they were scared and still not reassured when Jesus told them it was him. Peter called out to Jesus, “If it is you, call me to you” and Jesus did. Peter stepped off the boat out among the waves and began to walk on the water toward Jesus.

He was doing great at first, step after step, he got closer and closer to Jesus. Then, he glanced around at the storm swirling around him. He saw the waves crashing beside and behind him, he felt the wind rushing against his cheeks and he started to sink. His faith floundered and he began to sink. He thrust his hand up and cried out to Jesus “save me”! Jesus took him by the hand and together they made their way to the boat and climbed in.

So what do we do when all we can see with our eyes are the waves? When we can’t hear Jesus through the roar of the wind, when our bodies are being pummeled by the storm? We have to choose to look back at Him, reach out our hand and call on His name. And sometimes that’s hard! It can be SOOO hard! When I look at the things around me reminding me that we are four plus years into the journey to grow our family and we still do not have our child into our arms, I can feel myself sinking deeper and deeper into the water. I feel the sting of the salt water in my eyes and feel the burn of it in my throat. My body feels heavy with the weight of the stormy waters around me.

2 Corinthians 5:7 says that we should walk by faith, not by sight. I, or maybe even you too, have to look past the physical, the damaged elevator, the wind and the waves, and trust what can’t be seen. I have to make the same choice Peter made; reach up, cry out and get rescued. And I have to do it time and time again when I start to sink. Im making my choice, to walk by faith and not by sight, because let’s be honest, what I can physically see can be enough to cause me to start to sink.

Tonight my eyes see an empty crib and clothes with tags still on. But my faith sees a bed that’s ready for the child God has for us, clothes that are soft and comfy prepped and ready to keep that child warm. My eyes see a still rocking chair with no one to cuddle in it. But my faith sees a place where stories will be read and lullabies sang in the glow of a nightlight. My eyes the unanswered prayers of a big brother and a big sister. But My faith sees the love that has grown in their hearts for this little sibling that they have prayed diligently for over the last four years.

What are you going to choose? Are you going to get back on the elevator? Step out onto the water? What are you going view your surroundings with; your eyes or your faith?

The great thing about thoughts, is that no ones knows you’re having them. The fact that no one knows your thoughts can also leave you in a frightening and lonely place. Especially the thoughts that may shock those around you, the thoughts that leave you feeling guilty, the thoughts that you immediately feel shamed for thinking. Sometimes a situation arises and no matter how hard you try, you can’t prevent these thoughts from flitting through your brain faster than lightening. I’d like to share with you my scary secret thought, that to this day still haunts me.

It was March 21, 2012. It was rainy and dreary outside, I was alone in my car, pregnant with my second child. I had just found out that we were having a baby boy and I didn’t want him. Please, before you judge me, let me explain….

On February 14th, my husband, and I excitedly waited in a dimly lit room. We were expecting our second child and were eager to see him or her for the first time. A quick swipe of the ultrasound wand revealed a very small black and white wiggling baby. Various measurements were taken, pictures were printed, the technician quietly left the room and the doctor came in. He informed us that there had been some abnormal findings on the ultrasound; he explained that our baby had swelling everywhere. He went on to tell us that the chances of the pregnancy continuing another three weeks was slim, chances were very high that we would lose our baby. Utterly devastated, I clutched the photos and sobbed. We went home to wait.

God knew my heart and He knew my needs before I ever did. He placed a man in my life that did not have Thomas like faith; my husband. Josh’s faith swelled; he wrote out numerous healing scriptures for me to speak over the baby, fasted until our follow up ultrasound twenty one days later. We surrounded ourselves with Godly people and stood on faith that God would see us through. Our follow up appointment proved the power of prayer. Our baby was growing and thriving, showing no evidence of prior anomalies. We chose to move forward with an amniocentesis to confirm that there were no issues.

On March 21, 2012 I received a call from our doctor to call him back when I left work. Feeling confident that our prayers had been answered, I alerted josh that our results were in. I was confident that I could handle the good news on my own and quickly disconnected. I cheerfully answered and listed to what the perinatologist had to say; “The fetus has a chromosomal abnormality”. I couldn’t breathe, my heart pounded in my ears and my smile vanished. Sobs and tears consumed me, the word “abnormal” echoed through my head attempting to drown out everything else he was saying. “There is a third copy of the 21st chromosome, the fetus has Down syndrome. You will need to come in ASAP to make plans.” I murmured my goodbyes and hung up.

I was shattered; I clung to the steering wheel and sobbed uncontrollably. I thought back through the conversation; I knew that there had been a mistake. He had called the wrong patient, or had the wrong labs. Somehow, I managed to ask him if I was having a boy or a girl, “I believe it’s a male” was the detached response. It, fetus, abnormal, Down syndrome, I couldn’t understand how this was happening. We had prayed, fasted, believed; we had bigger than a mustard seed faith! I could barely bring myself to call Josh, I felt I failed him and my family. Guilt and anger overwhelmed me. In that moment, in the car by myself, I didn’t love the baby that was growing inside my belly, fighting so hard to be in our lives.

I slammed the car in reverse and backed out. I glared through my windshield, looking up into the grey sky, I imagined God looking back at me. “I cannot believe that you would do this to us. You have NO idea what you’re doing! You tell us to trust you, to have faith, and then you go and do something like this, you missed your chance God, how could you?” The blame wasn’t mine, this was Gods fault, and I was furious with Him. I’d love to say that the scripture “your sorrows may last for a night, but your joy comes in the morning”, was true for me, but it wasn’t. I was barely able look at Josh or our daughter the next day, feeling like somehow I hadn’t given them the son or brother I thought they needed. I broke down every time I felt the baby stretch reminding me that every single cell of his was “abnormal”. Every kick brought with it the fear of the unknown and guilt over the detachment I felt.

(Concluded in “I Couldn’t Fathom Losing Him”)

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Tag: God

Not By Sight

I Didn’t Want Him