Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Fear vs. Trust...the winner is...

One of my worst fears was realized two weeks ago. As my foot flew out from under me, my arms tight around my two year old, I landed - hard - on the stairs no longer holding her. I tried to pick her up, but the pain was too much to hold on to her. My dad was there. He took her. And I sat, doubled over in pain, mentally assessing the damage, listening to her cries. Was I broken? Could I move? Was V all right? The last question I asked aloud and my dad answered me: she was fine, just scared. I'd protected her, held on to her as long as I could.

Even in the midst of something so scary, even as I sit here still in pain, I am reminded of the graciousness of God. The way I hit the stairs allowed for my daughter to fall more gracefully and in a way carefully, and I hit no bone that I am aware of, just shocked my muscles. And I've had the opportunity to wear my yoga pants to work for two weeks! (So that's just a byproduct, but so comfy.)

I have a mind that moves very quickly from what is actually in front of me to disaster. I can "see" accidents on the road, my daughter falling and hurting herself or worse. I can even "see" my own failure, which often keeps me from doing what I think I should. When I actually live what I have already "seen," I find something that was missing from my visual predictions: grace, protection, God. God is in my midst. He is the one in control, not me!

One of my greatest struggles in the past six months has been fighting to actually want more children. My husband and I wanted a big family, but now I am thinking one is plenty. This feels like blasphemy, but I struggle with all the potential disasters and whether or not I even have the ability to raise more than one child. Am I good enough? Will we lose one? What if I get postpartum even more severely?

I finally had to fight image with image. When I imagine a brand new baby being placed screaming in my arms I realize seconds will not pass before I cannot imagine our life without him or her. It is that blessing and God's promises I must focus on. I trust a big, good God. He loves us, and He directs my life.

So four months ago I surrendered my pseudocontrol, asking God to direct our future as a family, but still asked in faith for what I thought I wanted: a closed womb because I feared my mental state. God has honored that request. Since the new year my prayers, "teach me to trust You," and the ever dangerous "I choose to trust You," have been working on my heart. I am now desirous of a new baby in the house, and I pray for my womb be opened, but the main prayer is still the same, even on the days when the fear seems to be winning: "I choose to trust You, Lord, with my family, my future, my mind, my heart." God is good and He is sovereign.

This post is a part of a One Word 365 community, Trusting Tuesdays! Have your own One Word? Link up to your most recent post every third Tuesday of the month!