"....this is not a survivable accident...."
Yet, that is what I am trying to do. I am trying to survive.
The morning I went to the hospital to induce my labor and give birth to Wade, I knew something wasn't right. The nurses strapped belts around my whale size belly to monitor my contractions. Since he was my second baby, I knew what to expect and I was ready for the pain. I watched the intensity of the contractions rise. When they began to spike over 100, I thought to myself, "This is supposed to hurt." but it didn't. I can remember thinking to myself - "Don't say it. Nothing is wrong. You have to deliver this child. Get your mind right and don't say it." Something was wrong. The man-child was too big and the contractions were unable to move him through the birth canal. Eighteen hours later the obgyn would tell me they were preparing for an emergency c-section. I told the doctor there would be seven more contractions - not eight. After a week in the NICU, we brought our baby boy home - with the knowledge God had held us in his hands once again.
I didn't do the same the first time a woman in my life lost her child. I didn't coach myself away from a prophesy that would destroy me. Instead, when my friend lost her son I said out loud, "You would have to put me away. I wouldn't survive."
Now each day, I have to run. I have to run away from my own words.
Three days this week I have run into these words-
"...in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,...." Psalm 139:16
It's a beautiful Psalm - one we often quote at the birth of a child.
They echo the answer my Dub gave me the fall after Taylor was killed. I asked him, a preacher of several decades, if God knew Sis was only going to live twenty years. We were building a new patio and my voice could hardly form the question, He rested his forearm on the shovel, ducked his sun stretched face, and nodded his head.
It was easy to push his answer down, to run away from it. It is harder to run from scripture.
It's hard to question the God that has held you.
It's easier to question yourself.
Am I just the believer who believes in white dresses on Easter and candlelight services on Christmas Eve or I am the follower who can believe rather than just sing "It is Well with my Soul"? Can I run to the words -
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip--
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you--
the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm--
he will watch over your life;
the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore" Psalm 121