I’ll start this post off by being completely transparent with you all.
It took me going into pre-term labor to finally deal with some deep rooted issues (ones I’ve been scared to touch). You know those issues, the ones that feel better when you continue to bury them deeper. Instead of facing them head on, you continue to brush them under the carpet. The problem is the dust builds up so much that the fruit of the root is erupting into other areas of your life.
It was time.
I wasn’t ready but God thought I was.
In the physical realm, my uterus began contracting around 5pm Wednesday evening. My husband brought me into triage because my contractions were 2-4 minutes apart at this time. When the doctor checked me, I was 3cm dilated and 75% effaced. Meaning, I had already been in early labor and I was well on my way to active labor. My cervix was thinning and to be quite honest, so was my courage. After being told that I might be giving birth to my 30 week gestational aged son, the last thing I wanted to do was praise God through the storm.
I prayed out of desperation that my little guy wouldn’t have to spend two months in the NICU.
I was admitted into Labor & Delivery and was immediately placed on Magnesium to stop contractions and given Steroid shots for baby’s under developed lungs. At this point, it looks dark. Nothing about this situation was living up to the expectation I had concerning labor and delivery.
That’s the problem with expectation, it never delivers quite how we want it to.
I had so many sweet family and friends praying for our family. At this point I feel like God is laughing and saying “Listen guys, she’s going to be fine physically. I didn’t bring her here for that. It’s that fragile little heart thats going to go through the transformation.” After no progression in my dilation or in contractions, I was sent upstairs to the Mother Care Unit. Little did I know the next few days would bring the biggest heart healing that I have had so far in my life.
Let me give you some history about myself. I am a twenty-five year old girl that would prefer to be taken care of and hates the idea of being alone. Even hanging out at home alone causes major anxiety for me. Being alone for me is related to the idea of rejection. If I am alone, it means that I am not loved. I am an extrovert by nature, so naturally I flow off of others energy but the fear of being alone goes far beyond the normal thirst for community. The rejection goes down to a little girl who yearns for the compassion of a father and later, acceptance from any male figure that would give me the time or day.
See, thats what the enemy likes to do. He likes to wound us in our childhood, where it all begins. He roams the earth day in and day out searching for the young soul he can devour. Little did I know but my young tattered soul was an easy target for a demonic spirit to continue to torment me even into my adulthood. I’m married now. Which means all feelings of rejection have vanished, right? Wrong. I chose to even bring the nasty root of rejection into my marriage. A beautiful covenant being burdened by the weight of a young girl who didn’t know just how much her Jesus loved her.
So it’s Friday night and I have been in the hospital for two nights. My husband (who by the way has not left my side but to pee at this point) decides to mention that he wants to watch the UFC fights on Saturday night. He’s telling me that he wants to leave for an hour or two just to get out of the prison cell I call the hospital room . There were no words for the emptiness that began to crowd my heart. All of those yucky feelings of rejection clouding my sight, my hearing and my words. That was it. I lost it. I shot out unkind words about his character as a husband and father. The anger boiled so deep in my heart. I could hardly look at him.
This was NOT ABOUT THE UFC FIGHT. This was NOT ABOUT MY HUSBAND. This was about a young girl who was crying herself to sleep at twelve years old, swallowing tylenol PM to sleep off the pain. This was about a young girl who felt rejected time and time again by men.
My husband left the room at this point so that I could have my space. I was so focused on his offense at the moment that God had to shake me to see that it had nothing to do with my husband’s comment. God allowed that anger to surface so that I could see the real root of the issue. I started to feel the Holy Spirit ministering to me. Showing me multiple situations in my past where I felt rejected and alone. That’s where it all stemmed from. That’s where the fear began. The fear of being alone. He started to show me that my response to current situations aren’t really the circumstances I am facing but the fear I am holding onto from the past.
There was a scripture the Lord had given to me when I had first given my life back to Him. It was Deuteronomy 7:22. It says,
“The Lord your God will clear away these nations before you little by little. You may not make an end of them at once lest the wild beasts grow too numerous for you.”
I used to beg God to deliver me from all the anxiety stored in my heart. To heal me of all the wounds in my past. I wanted so desperately to be taken care of in one day. I remember the Lord giving me this verse and speaking to my heart that deliverance wouldn’t come in a day. He had to heal me little by little because if he exposed everything at once, I would be overcome.
He is a perfect gentleman.
He knows best.
At this point I am sitting in my hospital bed crying my little eyes out. Remembering God’s promise and feeling the healing taking place in my heart. Just then it started to sprinkle on my hospital window. Trickle, trickle, trickle. Ah! God’s healing balm…rain.
I looked out my window and just then three little birds flew into the westside sunset. Yet another promise of God’s faithfulness in my life.
[“Look at the birds of the air. They neither sow nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”-Matthew 6:25.]
I just felt the Lord whisper at that moment, “Daughter, this solitary trip had nothing to do with your pregnancy but everything to do with your heart. I had to get you alone. I had to bring you to a place where you had no control, in order for me to show you that I AM IN CONTROL. I am your healer. I am your restorer.”
“YOU ARE ACCEPTED. YOU ARE LOVED. YOU ARE NOT ALONE.”
So doctors and skeptics alike, can say that my body was ready to go into labor but I am well convinced that my God had bigger plans. His plans for my heart condition were more important. I am happy to announce that I delivered my little guy at 36 weeks and although he was a month early, God was faithful and he spent ZERO time in the NICU. He is perfect.
I know that God is not done repairing my soul. He never will be this side of eternity.
We are all works in progress. All I know, is that something magical happened on that hospital bed. My Savior came down and rescued me. Rescued me from anger, rejection and even from myself. I didn’t ask the lord to heal that area of my life. If I can be completely honest, I think I was blind to the fact that I was harboring anger.
The need for acceptance has, at times, caused me to compromise my values and morals.
I find so much comfort that I am accepted and loved by the God who holds the earth in motion. He makes the sun to rise and set. He is the Great I AM. My Jehovah-Jireh…My Provider. If you are someone who has a hard time with letting go of control, can I urge you to trust God with all your heart? I know it’s hard and can be painful but I am here to let you know that God is beyond faithful. He only gives you exactly what you need. The first step to letting go of control is to truly believe that GOD IS LOVE AND HE IS GOOD.
Until next time,