Faith, fear, and preparation

Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see. Hebrews 11:1

I am a planner. Anyone who knows me understands this, and my very laid-back husband has grown to tolerate this. I'm constantly making preparations for the next event or occurrence in our lives.  When you have things that happen suddenly in your life that you have no control over (in my case, a very sudden divorce years ago) you learn to keep your life in control...to make sure that you're not caught off guard again in the future. So that's what I do. I plan everything: big and small. I'm the mom with everything in her bag, just in case. (even though my current child is my 11 year old stepdaughter) I'm never without wet wipes, germ-x, etc. I want to know what's around the corner. For every big dream I have, there's a logical part of me that rationalizes the situation and brings it back to reality. I often lay awake at night sending myself emails about this or that, and I drive Jerry nuts with my constant discussions about  planning for the next few years. Thankfully, he loves me. 

To make matters "worse," I'm a kindergarten teacher... and as all my fellow teachers (or spouses of teachers) know, this control thing comes with the territory. It's part of the job description. 

So naturally, when I found out I was pregnant this planner went into overdrive. The thing I've waited for and prayed for had finally come to fruition and I couldn't wait. I started dreaming of nurseries, color schemes, and baby names. I had our gender reveal all planned out. I even had their first birthday party theme going already... before my second trimester. I know I'm a little neurotic. Maybe a little more than that. 

The point is, I don't care for detest the unknown. I don't know many people who do, but I really, really don't like it. I love to surprise people, but I don't like to be surprised. I can't just relax and let other people do it. In case you're wondering, it's probably really entertaining to watch me be "hands off" while my students do crafts and activities. Deep breaths.....

My family is in the middle of the unknown now. In all of the heartbreak and agony of the first few days after our baby's diagnosis, I went through violent shifts of sobbing and heartache and times when I would just need to figure out what to do... practical things. It was my natural instinct.. how I knew to cope. 

So I began to think about everything....how would I register? Should I reschedule showers until after my birth so that I wouldn't make people uncomfortable? How do I decorate the nursery in this situation? What will we do in the hospital? How do we prepare Halle for this? How do I celebrate one baby's birthday and grieve for another? How do we raise a healthy newborn and spend time in the NICU with another? How do we ever, ever move on from this? 

 

(And to think, my biggest worry was at one time not finding out the gender of both babies. So thankful for perspective...)

The fear in my heart was so incredibly overwhelming, and I was trying to fix it the only way I could.. by planning. 

We made the choice that in spite of our instinct to hide and cry together, we would go to church that Sunday. The service was exactly what we needed. Every song, every word seemed to speak reassurance to our hearts, and having our church family believe with us in prayer was the thing our hearts craved most. We just hadn't realized it yet. The thing I remember most from the service were these four words.

Do not be afraid.

Much more easily said than done, right? We had been told that our child would die. How is it possible to not be afraid, to live in peace and reassurance? Yes, the service was so incredible and reassuring, but things would be different outside of the comfort of those doors... 

Do not be afraid.

Slowly, progressively, these words became reality to me. I had experienced God's provision and healing in my own life, and I had seen it in the lives of others, but I was still afraid. I believed for my child's healing, but I was afraid of the unknown. My faith wasn't binding me, but my fear was.  In the following days I applied those words to my life as much as possible. In my darkest moments, I repeated them to myself: Do not be afraid  as a reminder that God not only was able to conquer this impossible diagnosis, but he was able to conquer the darkness of the fear in my heart. These words guided me through our specialist appointment, and still carry me through the moments when my fear gets the best of me. 

So now, I am practicing my faith-based planning. Sounds like a christian investment plan, right? Instead of worrying and planning for what could happen, we're planning for what we believe will happen. We are fully trusting in God to allow us to bring two healthy babies home, and we're acting on this faith. There are two car seats on order with the local baby store. There are two bassinets in our bedroom, and a nursery-in-progress with two matching cribs on one wall. Their closet is full of sets of clothes, not singles. I buy everything in threes: two boys and a girl to cover all of my bases. I've informed my mother and best friend that If our sweet baby A is a girl, they are to buy hair bows immediately. (it would be tragic for a daughter of mine not to have a bow, right?)  When I'm asked by strangers what I am having, I proudly say a boy and very shy surprise baby.... one that just isn't ready to reveal him/her self yet. 

Some may see this as futile, ridiculous, and impractical. Is there still a chance that God won't heal my baby here on Earth? Yes. If that happens, am I only making things difficult on myself later on? Maybe. Is it financially impractical to buy for three babies when we only have the possibility of two? Absolutely.  

But we're living on faith...every single ounce of faith we have to prepare for these babies. We are living the very definition of faith.... "the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen.... assurance about things we cannot see." What good is saying we have faith, if we don't prepare for the miracle we're praying for? In my opinion, none.

So this is what faith looks like to us....praying for the miracle and preparing for the outcome to happen, regardless of what ultrasounds and doctors tell us, regardless of what fear might creep in, regardless of what others think. 

Thank you, God for the reassurance of your peace, and for the faith to believe in outcomes we cannot medically justify.