the promise of hope

As the weekend progressed, so did the lower abdominal cramping. 

At one point, while leaning against the counter, I turned to my husband and said, "It feels as though the baby is dropping..." This is something that usually happens days before delivery--except that I was only halfway through my pregnancy. 

He suggested I lay down, get off my feet and try to relax a bit. It definitely helped, but by Tuesday I felt it best to pay a visit to my doctor. 

I see a specialist due to other conditions I have, and naturally he is an extremely busy man. 

As I sat in the exam room waiting for him to pop in and give me instructions, I listened to the activity in the hallway just beyond my door. 

The woman being admitted to the hospital and in need of emergency surgery. 

The excited mother about to have her baby. 

The more I listened, the more I realized how foolish it was for me to be there. 

"Really, this is my fourth baby. I am sure everything is fine. I have three other babies at home for heaven's sake--no wonder I'm tired and crampy!" 

With that I got up and started to put on my coat. No need to occupy his time with an overly careful mom-to-be-for-the-fourth-time. 

As I was getting ready to leave, he entered and looked at me in surprise. 

He talked me into staying for a quick check, and within minutes I was being admitted to the hospital in full blown labor. 

I was twenty weeks along. 

As the gravity of the situation settled in, I realized that the possibility of my baby dying was very high. 

I was quickly dilating and labor was progressing rapidly. My body was having this baby and the baby was not viable of life. My baby was going to die. 

As they started intense IV meds to try to halt the labor progress, the doctors and nurses contemplated the next move knowing that whatever it was was going to be critical and there was no margin for error. 

That evening, with my husband at home with my three year old, two year old and one year old, I lay there awake, afraid and angry. 

We had to wait for test results and further monitoring to decide what our next step would be. My labor was still progressing, but it had slowed thanks for the IV meds I was on. 

As the evening turned to night, 

I scoured through God's Word looking for something to hold onto. 

I needed a story about a mother that just about lost her baby, but didn't. 

I needed a guarantee that my baby was going to survive. 

The heavens remained silent. 

I slammed my Bible shut and raised a fist toward the heavens. 

"Meet me in this darkness!" I demanded. 

"I am crying out and you remain silent! 

I am searching for you and you remain hidden!

Meet me here, I beg of you!" 

I wept now. 

All the tears that my anger had held back, poured from my eyes and soaked my hospital gown. 

With resigned hopes, I opened my Bible one last time. 

The pages fell open to Hebrews chapter 10, a chapter I was unfamiliar with. 

My heavy eyes scanned the words and they fell upon the word hope. 

I stopped. 

"Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope

without wavering,

for He who promised is 

faithful." 

Hebrews 10:23

"My sweet daughter,

I will not guarantee you any earthly thing

but the one thing you need I will guarantee--

the promise of hope

because 

I

am

faithful. 

I am faithful in life

and I am faithful in death. 

I am faithful in sickness 

and I am faithful in health. 

I am faithful in prosperity 

and I am faithful in need. 

I am faithful when you recognize my hand at work

and I am faithful when you don't. 

I am faithful when others are faithful

and I am faithful when humans fail. 

I 

am

faithful. 

My daughter, 

that is all the promise you need. 

Find rest in my faithfulness."

That day was five years ago today.

My son is beautiful and sweet and healthy and smart. 

He loves Jesus. 

God is faithful not because my story ended the way that I had desperately prayed.

God is faithful not because I 'deserved' his favor. 

God is faithful because that is who God is. 

God sees the whole picture when we only see a distorted piece. 

Six weeks later my brother was killed. 

Had I not walked through the fire six weeks prior and wrestled with the person of God,

his death would have swallowed me alive. 

In life. In death. In sickness. In health. In joy. In sorrow. 

God is faithful. 

Hold onto that promise of hope without wavering. 

Let that promise of hope hold onto you. 

Because He who promised is faithful. 

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tce