He Sustains Me

“I lay down and slept. 
I awoke, for the Lord sustains me.” 
-Psalm 3:5

I have loved this verse since I was a little girl. The words of the verse brought me so much comfort and peace in the night when I would get fearful. This verse speaks volumes to me about the grace of God: the protection and safety of His hand. But the verse says more than just peace and comfort—it speaks to the POWER of God. We only wake up because of the sustaining power of God. If God didn’t want me to wake up tomorrow morning, I wouldn’t. He is that powerful. When I trust and believe in this same God who possesses the power of life and death, what do I have to fear? My entire life is in His hands. I can’t change that fact. I might as well rest in it.

This past month has been a difficult one for our family. I am 27 weeks pregnant with our daughter, Mia Brielle. At the end of February we found out that Mia has a marker for several chromosomal disorders. We were tested for a variety of abnormalities including Down Syndrome, Trisomy 13 & 18, Cystic Fibrosis and various viral exposures. When the doctor looked at me and listed the possibilities for our daughter, something inside me screamed. Could this be reality? Could we be starting a journey into a life changing diagnosis? Could my child have a life altering disease? I excused myself to the bathroom, and breathed deeply, fighting tears. A million images crossed my mind. Children I’d met with Down Syndrome. Stories I’d heard of precious babies being lost only hours or days after birth to Trisomy 13 or 18. I wracked my brain to think of what Cystic Fibrosis even was. I clutched my womb and I wept. I wept for the possibilities for my daughter. Over the next few weeks, I had so much blood drawn that my right arm was visibly covered in needle marks. We endured test after test, a re-test, and weeks of waiting by the phone. Mia tested negative for viral exposure, for Down Syndrome and for both Trisomy disorders. We thanked the Lord as we passed each mark. Then we got a phone call informing us that I am a carrier for Cystic Fibrosis. It felt like a jump in the wrong direction. I wept and I worried over this news. I researched Cystic Fibrosis. I felt powerless at the words I was reading on the screen. 

Then one day I decided to stop. To stop worrying. To stop researching. To stop questioning. I decided to feel peace. I remember sitting alone in my living room one evening. The house was dark and there was just me and Mia. She was rolling around in my belly, kicking and thumping against my body. I was listening to worship music and the most amazing song came on: 

Christ the Rock

by Kim Walker-Smith

On Christ the solid rock I stand.

No double minded shifting sands.

On Christ the rock I plant my feet

A firm foundation for me.

On Christ the rock I place my heart

And trust in who You say You are

No circumstance that blows my way

Will ever move this solid place

On Christ the solid rock I stand

Leaving behind the fear of man

With Christ the truth I will agree

Forsaking lies that come for me

On Christ the rock I lay my dreams

Come with your fire consuming me

With Christ the rock I make my plans

Partner with your purposes

You are Holy.

And it hit me then. There in the darkness, the final bars of that song still streaming over my speakers. In that moment I realized with such blessed release that Christ would take care of my Mia. No matter what her portion in this life—no matter what her story will be—God is her rock. He sustains her. 

I remembered that verse from my childhood. The one that I used to whisper into the dark night in my room from where I rested my head on my blue daisy pillow case. “I lay down to sleep… I wake up again because the Lord sustains me.” 

The same God who sustains me, is sustaining my little girl.

One of my best friends said to me, when she found out about the tests we were undergoing for Mia… she said, “Claire, Mia didn’t come into existence because you and Bryan made love. Mia came into existence because God wanted her to be. He just happened to use you and Bryan to make her.” 

Mia’s name means, “MINE”. But that’s just it, isn’t it? She’s NOT mine. She’s HIS. Beautifully and perfectly created and crafted by His own hand. With His own love. She is HIS. And He holds her in His hands. HE SUSTAINS HER.

Today we had another appointment with a specialist for Mia. We are waiting on more test results that will tell us whether or not my husband is a carrier for Cystic Fibrosis also. The marker that was there before is still there, though not as drastic. She is growing, she is healthy. There are still unknowns about her health… unknowns that may not become known even until months after her birth. We can only trust. We can only believe that when we close our eyes to sleep, we will once again wake up. We can only rest our souls, our minds, and our bodies in the hands of Him who has the power to sustain us.

I can’t sustain my daughter. Though she lives inside of me, I don’t control her formation. All I can do is trust the one that is forming her. 

Every Day in May: Biggest Fear

Well, look at me. I already have missed a couple days of the Blog Every Day in May challenge. But since you all already knew that would happen, I guess I won't apologize ;) I'll probably miss a few more too because my dear Mommy is coming to visit this month! So I, of course, will be busy loving on her and enjoying her company and blogging will probably take another notch down on the totem pole. 



Day 7, Tuesday: The thing(s) you're most afraid of

I think there's one thing that we're all universally most afraid of. (I think) and that's losing a loved one. That's something that I definitely think of often, and I imagine we all do. BUT since I don't love to dwell on the darkest parts of my fears, I'm going to go with a little bit more of a silly fear of mine.... but still a very, very valid fear in my life.

I am very afraid of throwing up.

Please, stop laughing.

No really, stop.

I genuinely am terrified of throwing up. Flu season is an all out terror for me. Any mention at a mom's group of another family having been ill the week before will literally send me running to my hand sanitizer stash. I freakishly wash my kids hands with soap and HOT water after any time spent in a nursery or play group. I am OCD about fully cooking meat and handling raw meat, etc. And I refuse to eat at any hole-in-the-wall restaurant I think may give me food poisoning. I'm really not sure what it is about throwing up that I hate so much, but I just hate it. Not just hate it though... FEAR it. Literally fear it. If I hear my kids make any sound even remotely similar to throwing up in the night, I get clammy.

I will say that thankfully my momma instincts have kicked in very well each time my kids have been sick and I've been able to step up and care for them as they've needed... but those have been my more challenging mommy moments for sure.

So go ahead, laugh at me. I know it's silly. But it really is a true fear for me. As in, it keeps me up at night often. I really have prayed about it a lot and I will continue too. So as silly as it is, it's a true fear.

Well, I feel awkwardly transparent now!!! But there you have it. :) 

What To Do With Fear

"Be strong and courageous....with us is the LORD our God to help us and to fight our battles." 

-2 Chronicles 32:7b

I've struggled with fear for quite a few years now. It's funny, because when I was a teenager, fear wasn't really something that I identified myself with. In fact, I really enjoyed taking risks. My best friend and I had a notebook full of all the crazy things we wanted to do before we graduated. Things like take a late night walk across the highest train bridge in our area. Drive her car as fast as it could go... In fact, maybe it was my car accident that first made me realize I wasn't invincible... and allowed fear to grab hold. I remember being surprised by my own fear when Bryan and I were first married. We went cliff jumping up in Lake Superior. I had never hesitated to jump off cliffs even higher than the one we were on, but for some reason I found myself gripped with fear. I jumped anyway... but I just didn't enjoy it the way that I used to.

Sometime in college, I remember my fear sort of settling on one specific thing... death. Suddenly I couldn't go to sleep at night without fears of dying myself, or of the ones I loved dying. It became such a strong oppressive force over me. No matter how much I reminded myself that as a Christian, I know death has NO victory. NO sting... I still couldn't shake that frightened feeling.

I would pray over it, usually receive some relief and fall asleep. But each night the fear would return. I went on like this for many years. One night in South Africa, we heard a loud crash and then our security alarm system went off. It was about 2 in the morning when our alarm siren started. We jolted up in bed and checked the control panel. It was showing movement in our downstairs passage. Fear gripped me as Bryan told me to grab Peyton and duck behind the bed. We waited as the movement lights continued to flash and the siren continued to sound. We waited for the local guards to arrive. I remember crouching there, realizing that at any second someone could come through that door and could take our lives. I remember praying and crying out to God with my baby in my arms, unsure of whether or not these would be my last moments. I've never felt so paralyzed. Bryan barricaded the door and grabbed a lamp. We'd been told so many stories of crime happening in our area, so we knew our fears were far from unfounded. Finally after what seemed like forever, the guards showed up. It turned out that our TV had fallen off the table and caused the alarm system to sound. We were flooded with relief... but as I went to sleep that night, I couldn't help but think that it could've been so much more than just a fluke.

After I had Britany I remember my fear once again taking hold. I lay in bed each night for weeks, paralyzed by my fears.

One morning, on the way to church I told Bryan that I needed freedom from this fear. I felt that if I didn't get freedom soon, the fear would crush me. I had prayed and prayed, but somehow fear still seemed to always creep back in. That same morning at church I asked God for freedom during the worship service. The sermon was good, but I couldn't remain focused. After the message, we stood for the final worship song. My pastor took the mic, and prayed a closing prayer. After he said "amen", he paused as if thinking deeply. Suddenly he looked back out into the congregation and asked the ministry team to come up to be available for prayer. Then he spoke into the mic: 

"Someone here struggles with fear." 

I froze. He seemed to be looking at me. (I'd like to add that I've never met my pastor before. We've only been going to this church a few months, and I've never actually had a conversation with him) 

Again he spoke: 

"...specifically the fear of death. You can't even sleep at night you are so gripped with this fear. You lay awake at night paralyzed. But God doesn't want you to be fearful anymore. God wants to give you freedom." 

Without saying a word, Bryan took Britany from my arms. Tears streamed down my face as I was overwhelmed with the mercy of God and His great love for me. I practically ran to the front of the sanctuary. I reached out to a woman on the ministry team and could barely speak. I was able to say, "That's me. He's talking about me" but really nothing more. The sweet woman called over another woman and the two of them prayed over me. I was so shaken, in a good way. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil." 

Now, when I am faced with fear, I am reminded of the great love and mercy of a God who reached out to me. He doesn't want me to fear. He spoke to my pastor that morning because He wanted me to know that He cares. He doesn't want me to live my life in fear--rather He desires that I might be free.

"Sometimes faith is the absence of fear. Other times faith may be choosing to believe God even when your heart is melting with fear. Perhaps, then, faith is tested by what we do with fear--not by whether or not we have it." (Beth Moore, Breaking Free Study)