We sat in the car outside of the emergency room. My heart was hurting, my hands were trembling, and my husband was at a loss as to how to comfort me. Tears welled in my eyes, but I fought them back.
“I don’t want to walk this road again, Lord. Not now. Not this far along.”
The lump in my throat kept me from vocalizing my unspoken prayer, but He heard those silent heart screams.
His Spirit whispered quiet words deep into my soul. And if I’m honest they offered little comfort. Soft as it was, it was a command. I wanted answers and assurance that everything would be okay.
“I will follow You, how can I not? But please, Lord, don’t lead me there. Not again.”
Like Peter, I’d taken my eyes off of the One who leads me beside still waters, the One who restores my soul, the One who is light in the shadow of death. And like Peter His Spirit beckoned me with a quiet, gentle command: Follow Me.
The cramping, the blood, it really was so different from last time. And yet so very much like last time. I know my emotions ran wild – raging wild – because I was reliving my miscarriage and loss from just a few months ago. I wanted to trust His plan, His will, His love for me. But my mind was filled with questions and worry and fear.
Phone calls to my midwife and my dear friend who is an OB nurse only slightly helped to calm my nerves. I tried to believe them when they said that mostly likely I and Baby E. were just fine, that the symptoms were completely normal. But still, my heart was heavily burdened by the beast of “what if?”
We didn’t go to the ER. We knew the situation really wasn’t an emergency.
I spent most of that day praying, pleading with God to let everything be okay. As I struggled with trust and obedience and willingness I began to pray for peace. Trust is so much easier when He gives the gift of peace.
“I am leaving you with a gift–peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.” John 14:27, NLT
My spirit longed for His peace – the peace that would see me through whatever may come. In this situation I knew what kind of peace the world could give: an ultrasound or doppler detecting a strong heartbeat would bring so much peace. But I wanted more than that.
I prayed for His peace – the kind of peace that would allow me to follow Him in obedience, no matter how easy or difficult the journey may be. The kind of peace that releases the fear and worry and offers hands opened in worship and surrender.
Jesus is so faithful. That afternoon I felt that beautiful gift of peace. I focused on Him and His faithfulness, and somehow my mind and my body relaxed in the knowledge that even in the valley of the shadow of death – He is there, offering peace.
Late that night we did get to hear that beautiful heartbeat. It was strong and steady – and quite possibly the most beautiful sound my ears will hear in this lifetime. And while I reveled in knowing our baby was still safe and growing in my womb, I can say with all honesty that I had no more peace after hearing that beautiful heartbeat than I did before.
He gives peace not as the world gives. And the world cannot understand that peace.