Before I was married, I did a lot of things that many people considered reckless. I spent several weekends alone in Nashville's Tent City, I lived a year of my life in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Chicago, and I frequently gave rides to those who stand on sidewalks holding signs. I'm sure even years later beads of sweat are welling up on my parent's foreheads as they read this (Haha! You are welcome guys!).
I say all of this, not to brag about my past endeavors, but to portray how I completely released control of my life into God's hands. During that time I was called naive, thoughtless, and even stupid. Say what you must, but I am proud of that girl. I struggle every day to hold on to even just a piece of her.
Something happened to me when I fell in love. For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to worry about the life of someone else. This fear progressed as time went on and I have to admit that at certain points it has gotten out of control.
I built walls and decorated them with false perceptions of my control over the well being of my loved ones. The walls served me well until one day when a truck came crashing into them.
One September day Brandon and I (14 weeks pregnant) picked my brothers up from school. On the way back we took a detour to show them a house we were thinking about buying and we had a "little collision" with a truck. And by "little collision", I mean this happened.
At first glance everyone seemed shaken up but generally ok. Then I looked down and saw every pregnant woman's worst fear. I was bleeding.
Within a few short minutes I went from chatting it up with my husband and brothers to riding in the back of an ambulance trying to hold myself together at the prospect of losing the life of the tiny baby that I had already fallen in love with.
The next several hours were some of the longest of my entire life. Doctors and nurses came in and out asking 5 billion questions and throwing around words like "probable miscarriage". People that I love also came in and out to sit with me. No one really knew what to say but I felt loved.
After the longest wait in history we were finally taken to get an ultrasound to find out for sure what I had already come to terms with in my mind.
By the grace of God and to my surprise what I saw on that screen was a perfect little wiggly baby with a very strong heart beat. I have no words for the feelings that washed over me as I stared at that miracle.
God took care of my sweet family and we all went home that night with minor scrapes and bruises. Thankful does not even begin to describe how i felt and still feel. I think about that wreck on an almost daily basis. I look at my beautiful little boy and I thank God that we are graced with his (still wiggly) presence.
I was not prepared for the rush of overwhelming feelings that came when my sense of security and control was ripped away. I am currently still struggling with these feelings. We were all fine that day. But at any minute of any day, we might not be. I worry about this to an unhealthy extent.
What I should be doing is trusting God with my family. I know what the Bible says about fear, worry, and trusting God but knowing it and feeling it are two different things. For good or bad I really do believe that God's plans are better than my own. The problem is that I might not like what he has planned. My conversations with him often go something like this:
I can't explain why there is so much hurt in the world. I have watched friends lose loved ones to disease, accidents, and unspeakable tragedies. I have prayed alongside friends and family begging God to act in the way that we want him to. Sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes his plan is not at all what we want. That is where my fears lie.
I want God's plan to go my way. I want to be happily married to my husband until we are 99 years old and at that point we will both die together at the same time in our sleep while holding hands. I want to raise my son and watch him grow into a man and experience all that life has to offer. That may be exactly what God has planned for my family, but as hard as it is for me to even think about, it may not. Either way, it is completely and 100% out of my control.
Even though I now realize my lack of control, I still fight for it daily. I make Brandon text me as soon as he has arrived safely at work in the morning. I vacuum my floors a ridiculous amount of times a week to try to keep Noah from finding things to put in his mouth. I could go on and on.
It's a struggle. Some days are better than others. It helps to share my thoughts and fears with God. I am inspired by stories in the bible like Hannah who gave up her son completely to God.
I think that my goal in reality is to be somewhere in between that girl that I wrote about in the beginning and the one I am now. I have a family now and that changes my ability to be "reckless" with my life but it should not change my ability to give my family to God. To trust him to take care of us and to trust him even if it doesn't go my way.
Maybe you read this and thought to yourself "man that girl is nuts" and you may be right. But if you read this and can relate to my struggle please know that you are not alone. I would love to hear from you. I would love to hear from those who have a better handle on this than I do. Let's be open with each other about the things that are most difficult to talk about. God never meant for us to struggle alone.
Within a few short minutes I went from chatting it up with my husband and brothers to riding in the back of an ambulance trying to hold myself together at the prospect of losing the life of the tiny baby that I had already fallen in love with.
The next several hours were some of the longest of my entire life. Doctors and nurses came in and out asking 5 billion questions and throwing around words like "probable miscarriage". People that I love also came in and out to sit with me. No one really knew what to say but I felt loved.
After the longest wait in history we were finally taken to get an ultrasound to find out for sure what I had already come to terms with in my mind.
By the grace of God and to my surprise what I saw on that screen was a perfect little wiggly baby with a very strong heart beat. I have no words for the feelings that washed over me as I stared at that miracle.
God took care of my sweet family and we all went home that night with minor scrapes and bruises. Thankful does not even begin to describe how i felt and still feel. I think about that wreck on an almost daily basis. I look at my beautiful little boy and I thank God that we are graced with his (still wiggly) presence.
I was not prepared for the rush of overwhelming feelings that came when my sense of security and control was ripped away. I am currently still struggling with these feelings. We were all fine that day. But at any minute of any day, we might not be. I worry about this to an unhealthy extent.
What I should be doing is trusting God with my family. I know what the Bible says about fear, worry, and trusting God but knowing it and feeling it are two different things. For good or bad I really do believe that God's plans are better than my own. The problem is that I might not like what he has planned. My conversations with him often go something like this:
Dear God,
Please keep Brandon and Noah safe (in whatever the situation may be).
Of course your will be done.
But really... please just keep them safe.
I can't explain why there is so much hurt in the world. I have watched friends lose loved ones to disease, accidents, and unspeakable tragedies. I have prayed alongside friends and family begging God to act in the way that we want him to. Sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes his plan is not at all what we want. That is where my fears lie.
I want God's plan to go my way. I want to be happily married to my husband until we are 99 years old and at that point we will both die together at the same time in our sleep while holding hands. I want to raise my son and watch him grow into a man and experience all that life has to offer. That may be exactly what God has planned for my family, but as hard as it is for me to even think about, it may not. Either way, it is completely and 100% out of my control.
Even though I now realize my lack of control, I still fight for it daily. I make Brandon text me as soon as he has arrived safely at work in the morning. I vacuum my floors a ridiculous amount of times a week to try to keep Noah from finding things to put in his mouth. I could go on and on.
It's a struggle. Some days are better than others. It helps to share my thoughts and fears with God. I am inspired by stories in the bible like Hannah who gave up her son completely to God.
I think that my goal in reality is to be somewhere in between that girl that I wrote about in the beginning and the one I am now. I have a family now and that changes my ability to be "reckless" with my life but it should not change my ability to give my family to God. To trust him to take care of us and to trust him even if it doesn't go my way.
Maybe you read this and thought to yourself "man that girl is nuts" and you may be right. But if you read this and can relate to my struggle please know that you are not alone. I would love to hear from you. I would love to hear from those who have a better handle on this than I do. Let's be open with each other about the things that are most difficult to talk about. God never meant for us to struggle alone.
