Dinosaurs, Dangerous Questions and Thin Ice...

I am one of "those people" that, if you ask me how I am (and if I like you), I will tell you. It's a Dangerous Question. Not only is it a Dangerous Question because I am pregnant and hormonal; it's a Dangerous Question because I am, by nature, a very emotional person who doesn't hide it very well.
I wish I did.
I wish I could look you in the eye and tell you I was fine, and know that you aren't perceptive enough to know that I was lying. It's all well and good when I'm at work...after all, for the most part, those aren't people--they're "co-workers," and I'm learning that they're an entirely different species... At work, everything is "fine."
At home, everything is "fine." I love my David, so please don't think that I'm anything but genuine with him. But who among us burdens their husband with their every emotion? Especially when, emotionally, they're just not made like we are?
Almost 6 years ago, I thought that we were going to bring a wonder home from the hospital. We did...and then we didn't...and I fell into a black hole for 2 years. For 2 years, I was somebody else. I was physically ill...I was spiritually destroyed...I was suicidal...and I knew that God really did hate me. I'd have moments where I'd tell myself that I was fine, and I was getting better, but it simply wasn't true. I was far worse than I let anyone, including my husband, know. What he did know, is that although I don't think I ever lost my faith, I most definitely lost my communication with God. I had faith that He existed, but I didn't trust Him--it's two different things.
For 4 years now, I've been on my way back out. I'd like to say that the gaping wound has healed completely, but there are scars. My doctor actually asked me if I had PTSD--being back at MoBap again, seeing places I'd forgotten, but suddenly remembered, was surreal. Hallways, light fixtures--I joke about having memory loss after the heart failure, but it's true. Certain things come back in spurts; I can't really describe it. It's jarring, like a flashback; not always a bad memory, but disturbing, nonetheless.  Scars are not a bad thing to have. They remind us of the healing we've been through.
I told my pastor's wife this morning, that I feel like a donut--running around in a circle, with no substance. It's like I've been praying, but avoiding addressing the scary stuff: "God, I pray for this baby! For health, and healing, and..." What I don't say, is "God, please don't let us go through 2006 again. Please don't fail me."
He never failed me.
He never left--He never abandoned me. He didn't turn His back on us; He never turned His face away. He wasn't punishing us.
Just because I didn't get what I wanted, what I thought made sense, it doesn't mean that He wasn't there. I didn't feel Him. I didn't see Him, didn't hear a word out of Him. But He was there.
Why am I afraid of Him? He's my Father.
I think it's Psalms 16 that says "He will not abandon my soul." King David knew a few things about loss and disappointment. He also knew that God's character does not change, regardless of how our lives are altered. He is still God, and He is GOOD.
I have a Father that I have known since I was 8 years old. For 26 years, I have called myself His child, and yet I feel like a 2-year old when I talk to Him sometimes. Narcissistic. Selfish. Untrusting. Fearful. I deny His character by my reluctance to be honest with Him. Our pastor's been preaching a really great series on what Faithfulness is. The more I actually listen to, the more I wonder how often I've confused faith with hope, or faith with trust? I asked him today if hope was more of an emotional thing, where faith is more of a spiritual thing? I don't know...but I know that all of the above is being challenged right now.
We've prayed for this child for years. One thing I learned with Hannah's loss, is that God's will doesn't usually look like our will. We know what we want, and we think we know the story; however, when we truly turn our lives over to Him, we have to accept the fact that the book is written word by word, not chapter by chapter. We don't know what's going on. We have to believe that He does. He not only sees the words and the chapters; He sees the entire story of our lives, and He knows what He's doing.
We prayed that this child would be conceived in His time, by His rules. I thought He was taking too long, that He didn't want us to be parents. In May, I cried to my husband that I felt like giving up, that I was never going to be good enough for God to bless us with children. My amazing husband said to have faith.
The biggest thing I've struggled with in my life is feeling like God doesn't like me. That He couldn't really love me, because He knows what I'm really like, and that's ugly. My amazing husband said to maintain hope.
We prayed that this child would come along at a time when we were fit to fight the battle, because we knew that it would be hard. David probably knew better than I did (after all, I can do anything, right?!?!?), and he was right. From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I've said that it's felt like a battleground. I've been hiding out lately, but it's come back on in full force since yesterday. It's a mental and spiritual battle (not to mention the physical battles of shots and morning sickness and headaches--but I can TOTALLY get over that!), and it's messy. Just because I don't want to remind myself of how messy it can be, doesn't mean that it's not.
I am beyond amazed to be pregnant, but it still feels really surreal. Even when I'm looking at the ultrasounds, I'm freaked out...like, "is that my body?!?" Huh?!?  I know that will change when I start feeling movement; for now, I'm laying hands on my rapidly-expanding belly and wondering what's going on in there (besides the bladder dance).
There are things that I am overwhelmed by (mostly financial, I'm not going to lie) and things I can't allow myself to think about (how will the first 29 days be? Will I throw a party, on Day 30?).  God has supplied our needs in so many amazing ways--that I would allow myself to get overwhelmed about financial things is a testimony to how much like a 2-year old I really am. Of course He takes care of us, in spite of our worries and fears and mistakes. He doesn't give us stones when we need bread. I know it will be okay...I need to get back to "considering the lilies," like I have written on my mirror. There are things I don't want to admit that I'm afraid of (but I think that's pretty obvious). There are fears that I thought would not be a big deal, but now they're looming over me like a tyrannosaurus rex.
I just have to focus on the fact that T-Rexs are ridiculous creatures. ("I have a big head! And little, tiny arms!")
God is faithful. God never leaves us. He will not abandon our soul.
Regardless of what is, what was, or what is coming, He does not change. It is impossible for Him to not love us. Everything seems insurmountable, or scary, or impossible; everything wants to keep me awake at night. God does not.
Since I was a little girl, I've always had this image in my head of sitting on the lap of God. I've never liked sitting on anyone's lap--it's never been comfortable. But sitting on His lap has been in my heart since I can remember. To sit there, with my head on His chest, and to know that I am safe, that nothing can hurt me--that is the image I cling to when the T-Rexs of the world are chasing me. God is my superhero, and with Him, it's okay that I feel like a child. With Him, I don't have to lie if He asks me if I'm okay--He knows. He knows my fears, and my failures; He knows that all I really want is to do the right thing, even when I get in my own way. He knows me, and He loves me, and He's never left me alone.
Sitting in worship today, choking over the words that God is "Always Faithful," it hit me: I still have doubt that it's true. I still wonder if He'll come through, if He'll do what He's promised. Even though I KNOW that He will, the T-Rex of "What Ifs?" was chasing me down today. I just bought a crib--"what if" it's all for naught?
What if?
Doesn't matter.
God is faithful.
I am afraid.
God is faithful.
I am unsure.
God is faithful.
Am I crazy?
God is good.
Will You be there?
God will not abandon my soul.
It is thin ice, to say to the Most High, the Omnipotent on, that "I will trust You." To say, "Lord, do Your will."
It is thin ice, because you never know when it's going to break...
But you do know that He will always catch you...
He will never let you go.