Fear and Faith

I stand paralyzed in front of my closet. My bulging belly says I'm pregnant...nearly 15 weeks to be exact. But somehow, despite my nausea, feeling the baby move (early!), and not fitting into any of my clothes for a very long time, I don't feel like it's real.

I look down at the laundry basket where my one tired pair of maternity jeans sprawls out onto the floor, and then glance at a worn out, stretched out, pilly sweater and imagine myself wearing that outfit one more time. Then I stare at the small selection of maternity clothes that I purchased a couple days before and imagine myself wearing them. They look much better...in fact, they actually look nice on me.

And I actually need them. I can't wear my stretch pants and long tank tops and pretend that they are suitable any longer. It's too cold outside, and it's getting embarrassing.

I reach out to grab one of the new shirts and freeze. I just can't do it. I can't take the tag off.
It is then that I realize just how afraid I am.

"Lord! I'm terrified!" I cry, tears streaming down my face. "I'm terrified!" I repeat over and over, slowly letting it sink in.

This amazing gift I've been given, I can't seem to unwrap the package. It's sitting on the floor, all pretty in paper and a bow, and I stare at it every day, smile tenderly when I think about what's inside, even show it to the kids. But that's all. I step over it, walk around it, make sure it's not in harms way...but I don't tear off the paper in breathless anticipation...I can't even pick it up.

I knew that this pregnancy would be a huge stretching of my faith and trust. But I had no idea how hard it would be. The simple act of putting on actual maternity clothes, of committing, in a tangible way, to this pregnancy is more painful that I had imagined.

See, when we got pregnant two years ago, it was an answer to prayer. My kids had been praying, and I had been praying for a surprise, that my husband's heart would be changed towards having more children. And sure enough, our prayers were answered, to the letter. I also got pregnant at the same time as a friend who was new in town and had prayed that she would have a friend to be pregnant with.

We went shopping together for maternity clothes...and I purchased some comfy pants and t shirts...which I proceeded to wash and wear.

Then I miscarried.
Then I had to stare at those clothes hanging there, unused...
Then I miscarried again.

Yes, our prayers were answered, yes, my husbands heart was changed, yes, the Lord was with me through each painful moment, and yes, here we are again, more prayers answered...and I'm absolutely terrified.

Of course I have no way of knowing what the future holds, and this journey of faith is the most tangible one I've ever been on. I'm literally going day to day, believing that there is a healthy baby inside of me, praying fervently for it, but unable to see or feel it...stepping out in faith...for something unseen...but believing the promise of the Lord to fill my arms again.

I'm comforted by this: no matter what the outcome, I am in the refiners fire, and I will be changed for the good and for the glory of the Lord.

And this baby...well, it will be something pretty special. A physical reminder to momma on a daily basis, that she can, indeed, do ALL things through Christ!!!

{14 wks, 4 days 10/5}