I've always known Christ. I grew up a Christian and was instilled with Christian beliefs from a very young age. My family didn't always go to church, but I was always taught about Jesus and the Bible, and I always found hope in the story of the Gospels. Through all of my adult life, I really considered myself a Christ follower and never gave it much afterthought. I knew I believed, and I knew where my identity lied, but on April 1st, 2007 I received devastating news that shook me to my core and made me rethink everything I knew of God at that time in my life. On Sunday April 1st, 2007 I was away at college in Edmond, OK. I was 19, and it was a typical lazy college Sunday in my dorm. I received a phone call from my cousin who lived in the same town, saying that she was coming over to talk to me about something. I could tell something wasn't right and I would later find out that my mom sent her to tell me the news because she didn't want me to be alone when I found out. When she got there, she sat me down on my bed and told me the news -- "Your dad had a heart attack." Those words rang through my ears and pierced through my heart like a knife. I knew as soon as the words left her lips that he was gone. My daddy. My rock. My best friend in this entire world. Gone. And I never got to tell him one last time how much I loved him. In fact, the last time I had spoken to him, a week prior, I wasn't even very nice to him. In that moment, and for a long time after, I hated God and I wrestled with guilt and doubt. If He was so good, why would He take my precious, sweet dad who EVERYONE loved away from me? I questioned every intention and plan God had for my life from that point on for a long time to come. Somewhere along the line though, I can't exactly say when it was, but I was able to find healing, and more importantly forgiveness, and start to rebuild trust in my Heavenly Father. I was able to get to the point of at least knowing Him again, but it wasn't until my son was born in 2014 that I really came to know the Lord on a much deeper level and came to know what kind of Father God really is. Two years ago, my husband and I had our first child. When we found out we were pregnant we were ecstatic to start the family we had always dreamed of. I had an easy and smooth pregnancy with no complications at all... until it wasn't. At 31 weeks gestation, I had gone in for my appointment with the worst headache I'd ever experienced, however I had chalked it up to just allergies. I also had recently developed swelling in my feet, which I just thought was a normal pregnancy symptom. When the nurse took my blood pressure, it showed 210/116 and we both thought something wasn't right with the cuff. She took it again with a different cuff, and then did it manually, and both times were just as high. My doctor came in and saw me immediately. She was a bit concerned so she had me take a urine sample, which several minutes later confirmed an abnormally high protein count. It turns out, the headache was due to the extremely high blood pressure and the swelling due to edema and hypertension. My doctor informed me that I had developed severe preeclampsia. She told me that she was admitting me to the hospital and that I would likely have to be care flighted to Fort Worth that same day. The biggest piece of information? I would very likely be having my son way earlier than expected. Shock. Complete and utter shock, so much so that I could barely comprehend what my doctor was telling me. My husband works in the oilfield and often has no cell service on location so it was no surprise that I wasn't able to reach him after trying. I proceeded to call my mom several times with no luck either. By this point I was starting to get worried and the fear was starting to set in. I felt all alone since I couldn't get a hold of my family to tell them what was going on. I finally was able to get a hold of my step dad, and by the time he answered the phone I was sobbing so much that he could barely make out my words. I was admitted to labor and delivery where I was monitored more while I waited for the care flight team. It was decided that I would in fact have to have my son early, and it would be better for me to be at Harris Methodist when that time came with an impeccable NICU team because at this point we didn't really know what we were facing. I was care flighted from Wichita Falls to Fort Worth that night. The ride there was frightening to say the least. The care flight team was encouraging and kept reassuring me everything was going to be ok, but I remember thinking to myself, "How could they possibly know all would be well!?", as I'm hooked up to machines flying Lord knows how many feet over North Texas. I remember praying my heart out to God for those entire 45 or so minutes. Giving it all to Him, and letting him have complete and utter control. And in the midst of that chaos, I heard God whisper, I'm here... trust Me. I realized that I was never alone in that doctor's office because God was with me the entire time. He calmed all my fears and brought me a peace that surpassed all understanding in that moment, but that peace wouldn't last long, because not long after we arrived I began to wrestle with the doubt and fear that was creeping in again. The next 24 hours were a whirlwind and a bit of a fog. I was given Magnesium Sulfate to try to control my blood pressure and they spent the night monitoring me. That first night was crucial because they had a hard time getting my blood pressure under control the entire night and were very concerned that I'd be having our baby boy before the sun came up. Woman to woman - as if the thought of laboring your first child isn't scary enough, to think something tragic could possibly happen, especially this late in the game, just elevates that fear even more. Satan really likes to get in our heads and make us think the worst, just like he did when my dad passed from this earth and into Heaven. Thankfully, God heard me and knew my heart. All my prayers worked and I was able to stay on bed rest for nine whole days, although those nine days were filled with unknowns and me wrestling with doubt and with God over and over again. Not knowing when I would have my son, not knowing if he would be alright, or if I would be alright. A lot of this time is now a blur two years later, but I now know that God was stretching my faith and pushing me to trust in Him and His plan, even when I couldn't see it. Over the course of those nine days, the doctors and nurses not only monitored my levels, but they also monitored the baby's heartbeat and movement. He was really active until about the 7th day, and then movement starting getting slower and harder to find. On the ninth day, I spent the entire morning with a monitor on my belly, and to no avail there was a faint heartbeat but absolutely no movement. If you're a mother, you can imagine how scary this was for us. The thought of potential tragic heartbreak lurked through my mind again. The doctor that was on call told me that the reason that there was no movement was because he wasn't getting enough blood and oxygen from the placenta and that it was time. They had to take him to ensure his health and my own, and the tears came pouring out like a river. I had been putting on a brave face up until this point but I couldn't hold it in any longer. On Sept. 11th 2014, our son was born two months premature. Two months exactly before his due date weighing less than 3 lbs. The thought of such a tiny little human being able to thrive with no complications at all was the furthest thought from my mind. I just wanted him to survive. That was my only prayer. "Please God, just let us keep him." I know I prayed that prayer in my head and aloud probably 1,000 + times over the 30 days that we spent in the NICU, and each day our precious tiny boy got stronger and each day his doctor was thrilled with the progress he was making. In the days to follow I continued to surrender everything to God. I didn't know if our boy would be ok.. if I would be ok.. how long we would be in the hospital; but I knew that I was not in control and that the only thing I could do was give it to God and rest. And that's exactly what He allowed me to do. Rest. In the middle of utter chaos and the unknown, daily I was overwhelmed with the peace He brought to me. It was in those days of surrendering to Him that my relationship with Him began to grow much deeper.. and definitely much sweeter, than I had ever imagined it could be after He took my dad home to be with Him. Our son never had any major complications or hiccups. He was strong and brave. I know that that can only be a God thing and that He is going to use him to do great things for His Kingdom someday. I know that our NICU story isn't near as scary and traumatic as several others. There are so many other NICU families that don't have the outcome that we did. But it's our story. And it brought me closer to God than I ever thought possible. It proved to me that God really does use your scariest and darkest valleys in order to lead you to victory. It proved to me that He absolutely will give us more than we can handle, so that we will learn to surrender to Him fully and trust that He will take our struggle and make something good from it. He showed me that He really won't forsake us. He took my fear and doubt, right when I was smack dab in the middle of it, and turned it around and gave me the strength and bravery I so desperately needed in those moments, and I know my dad had a hand in that too. Sweet sister, I pray the same peace for you. If you are struggling with doubting and trusting God, I pray you find encouragement in my story. All it takes is prayer... a real and raw and honest conversation with God. Sometimes that looks like crying and screaming out to, or even at Him, when you can't understand why. Throwing it all out on the table for Him, and then sitting and listening intently for His voice. That's when He stretches us. He's got your back, even when you can't see the outcome. Sure, life still is never perfect and never will be. Being an oilfield family, we have had major financial stress since the birth of our son. We've had marital struggles because of that stress, we've (again) questioned God's goodness, but He ALWAYS, ALWAYS leads us back to Him and shows us that He is in control and that He has us covered, even when we can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. He always gives us the courage and the strength to keep pushing forward somehow. I recently read a quote from Holley Gerth: "I realize maybe I've misunderstood what brave feels like: I thought it was a roar and lunge. But maybe it is a whisper and a trembling step. I thought it was loud and bold. Perhaps it is quiet and almost invisible. I imagined it would mean the absence of all insecurity. Yet I'm wondering now if it's faith dancing the two-step with doubt. If this is so, then what makes me brave is also what scares me silly." I think that couldn't be more true of our Father. He ALLOWS us to doubt in fear in order to stretch us in our faith. He allows us to ask Him the tough questions. And then He whispers, trust Me, and MAKES us brave. Dear Heart Design's pieces are meant to provide opportunities to share your story or testimony with others. Each story shared in Unveiling Grace receives a piece to allow them to further share their story with others every single day. Have a story to share?
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1 Comment
Jo
11/14/2016 05:24:21 pm
Beautiful testimony...God bless you and your family
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