I’m pregnant and we ended up at the doctor this week for heavy bleeding.
During this pregnancy, I’ve had heavy bleeding twice and light spotting four or five times. When I was pregnant with our son, Titus, I was hospitalized with complications and told there was almost no chance of survival. We lost a baby before him.
Pregnancy is always an anxious experience for our family. I’m a worrier in general, and these situations bring out the panic like nothing else. I feel completely helpless, because for the most part, I am.
So on Sunday afternoon, I was lying on a hospital bed for observation, thanking God that Baby was ok for now and wondering why we were having yet another complication. The doctors told us the situation should resolve by week 20, and my first reaction was, “Great. I’ll go crazy worrying over the next six weeks!”
Later that night, a friend prayed that we would experience God’s peace that passes understanding.
Now, given my struggles with anxiety, there have been plenty of times in my life when someone has said those words, and I’ve mentally rolled my eyes and shoved it off as spiritual “blah blah” that doesn’t really work.
But my friend’s words reminded me of a time when I clearly experienced that peace.
It was almost three years ago, and I was on bed rest, in a Ukrainian hospital. My doctor was telling me gently that our baby most likely would not make it. We’d struggled to get pregnant this time, after a miscarriage the year before. I’d been fighting depression for the first time in my life.
And now, I had to wait. Lay on a hospital bed for a week and wonder, is my baby alive, or have I already lost him?
That first day, after the tears had subsided, I had the thought: “This will be the longest week of my life, waiting to find out.”
And in that moment, God spoke to my heart: “I will give you peace that passes understanding.”
For the first time in my life, I truly came to know what that meant. My circumstances did not change. I did not feel a promise that Titus would be ok. The same questions and uncertainties were in my mind and heart, but somehow, unexplainably, I had peace.
And Friend, please let me tell you, this was not because I’m some kind of spiritual giant. Ask my husband – he’ll explain that my anxious, pessimistic tendencies usually have me assuming the worst in every situation. That’s me.
This was God. The peace was purely a gift of grace. It settled my heart in a firm belief that God was in control and loved us, no matter what happened in the end. And He gave me rest.
Five weeks later, my doctor looked at the ultrasound screen in amazement and admitted: “This baby is a miracle.” And our gracious God brought Titus into this world about six months later.
Here we are again. This time, the doctors believe Baby will be ok. But as you can imagine, the fears and “what-ifs” still peck at my mind and heart.
But God reminded me yesterday of that similar experience, when He gave peace. I’m sharing this today, because I want to thank and glorify this God of grace, who touches our hearts, even though we don’t deserve it.
And I’m sharing because I know I’m not alone. Your circumstances might be different, but you may struggle with anxiety as I do. You might have those bouts with fear when you’re certain you’ve lost your mind completely. You might want to crawl into bed, or not crawl out of it in the first place.
Friend, if you’re there, know there is peace available. And it’s not something you can or need to conjure up. You don’t have to be super spiritual, super faithful, a good person. God loves you, and in His grace, He wants to give you peace. I pray you experience it today.