Mary's Joy

In light of this coming Christmas, I just wanted to highlight the joy that Mary had that accompanied her obedience to God in agreeing to her unique role as the mother of our Savior and Lord--I have always found the part of the story before Jesus' birth intriguing, and there are so many inspirational elements to it. It has been proposed that Mary feared the possible dangers that accompanied this adventure, in view of her not yet being married; but none of that is ever shown in Scripture. To the contrary, her immediate answer to the angel Gabriel, after discovering the means by which it would happen, was one of complete willingness: "Let it be unto me as you have said." The Scripture gives no hint that her will struggled in the slightest against this great unknown, this mystery, this unique privilege.
There's a very practical way that I find to understand her confidence, apart from just her simple faith and obedience: Would God let anything happen to the mother of the Savior? She would be the safest person on the planet, you can be sure. Who knows how much she pondered that thought if at all; I think her willingness was more simple trust in God to protect His servant, or even further, it was her willingness to endure whatever it took to obey Him for what might be the most profound purpose to which any mere human has been called. It seems to me that I've heard that Jewish women all desired the role that Gabriel delivered to her; but also I imagine that God had created Mary uniquely for that role at that time, and instilled in her heart a sweetness and vital trust that might surpass that of any other woman in history.
Not only did she respond willingly to Gabriel, but Luke tells us that when she received that great greeting from Elizabeth, who was about 6 months along with John the Baptist, Mary broke out in a song of her own composition yet Scripture-based, praising God and delighting in the coming of her Savior, and calling herself blessed. All in all, reading the words of this song (which is referred to as the Magnificat), it is a delightful thing to ponder her condition and the mood of that song. It is also important to recognize that in this song, she calls Jesus her Savior. She knows that she needs the salvation He makes available, as does anyone else.
She was not the only one delighting in His presence on earth; not only Elizabeth, either, who could only know through the power of the Holy Spirit that Mary came to visit because they were both expecting and were parties to the most monumentous event in all of human history! Not only Elizabeth, but her tiny baby, still unborn, who leaped in her womb, rejoicing at the recognition of his cousin Jesus' presence. It shows that the unborn baby has a spirit, and that for the sake of this event, God instilled in John the Baptist a recognition that had nothing to do with mere human sense, but even as an unborn baby, he was filled with the Holy Spirit, as Gabriel had promised his father Zacharias. What a delight it must have been to these two women to visit together and ponder what was to come. I would be fascinated to somehow review their conversations that are unrecorded in Scripture regarding all that they were experiencing and expecting, and what they must have said about the angel Gabriel.
Zacharias' prophetic song, also, is filled with joy at God's deliverance. Other than Zacharias' initial doubt, these families, once assured by Gabriel, didn't anywhere in the Scriptures show fear, distrust, or hesitation. It was a delight to be used by God for such a great purpose as to bring His most indescribable Gift to earth. Perhaps no family before or since has ever been so filled with excitement and anticipation as they were at that time!
Joseph also treated Mary in the gentlest way possible considering the initial confusion he faced, and though little is recorded of his response to the angel of the Lord who explained the situation to him, it is all one of obedience and lovingkindness.
At some point a star even appeared, shining down from heaven, so clearly pointing to Mary, Joseph and Jesus that it directed the Magi from other countries to their house--it existed primarily, perhaps, to guide people to the Savior, but wouldn't it also show that God had singled this family out as His, not to be messed with? If a person had it in his heart to persecute them, and then saw that a star from heaven so specifically shone down on their home, it could only strike fear into his heart and change his mind. Who would think of sending such a star, who would have the power to exercise that thought, except the One who had called all the stars into being? As a result, their safety was all the more assured. God had put His divine stamp on their presence among the people.
In all this story, all I see among Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth and eventually Zacharias is sweet faith, delight, and obedience.

Doctors Don't Know Everything!

Well, here's another pregnancy story--but this one has a happy outcome with the birth of my now-almost-8-year-old son. Until the 7th month, I didn't dare imagine that we might make it to birth; though I wasn't really anxious, I wasn't optimistic. Then I had a dream that was much like the actual birth. From that point I allowed myself to get rather excited about it--and when he was born, I felt such a rush of delight that I could not contain it. The doctor was amazed at my outburst of happy whoops, but she wasn't inside my head all that time and didn't experience the things I had first-hand.

When I first got the positive home pregnancy test, I started trying to find a pro-life, high-risk ob-gyn to help me. I needed pro-life because I wanted someone who valued life as any doctor should; the high-risk because of my previous troubles and my age; I was 37. It wasn't easy to get much information on the doctor's stand on life. I called a number of offices and when I asked if the doctor was pro-life, I almost always got an icy and/or vague response from the receptionist. I was under the strong impression that the doctor I chose fell into the pro-life category; I don't remember exactly what convinced me. I went for my first visit, and she had me undergo an ultra-sound. At this point I only felt assured, as at 6 weeks I saw a healthy heartbeat and I was given no bad news by the technician.
We had been meaning to go to Yellowstone for a long time; since Gary was going to a trade show in Coeur d'Alene, we headed off in that direction and were planning to go straight from the trade show on our trip. I had every aspect of the trip planned out. We were so excited!
The last day of the trade show came. We would be gone in another hour, but we got a phone call in our room. It was Gary's brother Dave. He had tracked us down and was calling to tell us that Gary's mom, who was deeply affected by Alzheimer's, had fallen and broken her hip just after a long surgery to fix it when it had been broken shortly before. She was fading fast and we were wanted in Portland. So we cancelled our reservations, finished packing and left for Portland, but she was gone before we got there.
From the motel room there, I called my doctor because I'd been bleeding. I could immediately hear the alarm in her voice, but not entirely from what I was telling her. "I've been trying to get hold of you! Where are you?" I told her we were in Portland. She said, "Good. You need to go right away and get a good-quality ultrasound. It looks like you have what is called a cornual pregnancy, and you could bleed to death. I think I'm going to have to ask you to terminate this pregnancy."
I was devastated. I could not do such a thing; I'd been pro-life since shortly after becoming a Christian. I'd researched the development of the unborn in detail and knew that it wasn't just a "mass of tissue" and that unlike what women are told, the unborn do feel pain. I knew that from the first cell the unborn is identifiably human. Also the development was happening fast and what didn't originally look visibly human at a glance was quickly becoming distinctly so. But I could bleed to death! It didn't matter if they had to hang me upside down to make it last, I had to hang on to this pregnancy.
I went for the requested ultrasound. At the same time, Gary's dad was at the same hospital discussing some of the details of his wife's death. It was something of an encouragement to him that while one family member had died, one was just beginning a new life. This ultrasound, however, didn't reveal anything conclusive except that it had started as a twin pregnancy, but one wasn't developing. With this news I didn't react as much as I would have expected--at least there was one that was viable. I had grieved over previous losses and I was going to rejoice in this pregnancy while there was life in it!
At home my doctor told me to stay on bed rest until they did another ultrasound, but that wasn't for another couple of weeks. During that time, I regularly read Psalm 139, the one with "You hem me in--behind and before" which then spoke to me of His boundaries that He has set for those who trust in Him; also, more famously, "For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Significantly, it also says, "Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast." Nothing I would do would be hidden from His loving and watchful eye. Even now, to read this Psalm is like visiting an old friend. The funny thing was that when I was reading it, I could easily flip a chunk of pages to the right and turn to Isaiah 45:19, which appeared almost like it had neon lights around it: "I have not spoken in secret, from somewhere in a land of darkness; I have not said to Jacob's descendants, 'Seek Me in vain.' I, the LORD, speak the truth; I declare what is right." When I go to that old Bible, and go to Psalm 139, Isaiah 45 is still the easiest page to flip to from there. The message I heard from it was that God doesn't speak to hear His head rattle. He makes His promises, His story, His proclamation of love for us with purpose and in truth. He wants us to take Him at His word. When I pondered the unthinkable possibility of "terminating the pregnancy" as my doctor suggested, my stomach would wrench. When I thought of not doing it for any reason, I was at peace.
We had a friend who had in previous times discussed pro-life issues with me, and it was clear she thought I was a bit extreme. At this time, she said, "I guess this makes you re-think your stand on abortion." I said, "If anything, it makes me surer of my stand." It wasn't that hard to choose the only side that gave peace.
The next ultrasound revealed that the position of the placenta was no trouble after all. They didn't know why I was bleeding, and that problem continued throughout the pregnancy, without effect. I had gone to this ultrasound alone, and to my surprise, when I got to the car, my knees nearly went out from under me. It's the only time I've ever experienced that. I didn't realize how much I was affected by the whole ordeal until then.
This pregnancy was my son Tim. With the previous pregnancy losses combined with the bleeding, no one felt sure that he would make it to birth. When his birth was announced at church, I gather that the whole congregation applauded. They had been praying for us the whole way through.
Now sometimes when I look at Tim, I marvel at how easily the doctor said to "terminate" him. Easy for her to say! I am thankful that we didn't panic and take that route. We never would have known the great potential of the birth of this healthy boy. He's almost 8 now, full of mischief, and I can't imagine life never having heard his voice or suffered his pranks. I guess he had to cause mischief before birth as well; had to develop his own m.o. early in life. It has occurred to me that perhaps Satan opposed Tim's birth because of some great thing he might do later in life to glorify God. That is what I hang onto--suffering all this mischief, before birth and since, will be worth the end result if Tim grows up to glorify the God who made his own life's value known to us!

Before I Formed You in the Womb, I Knew You

I realize the subject matter of this, my twin miscarriage, might put a person off...for the first while. The really good part is at the end, but it takes going through the crucible of the story with me to get there and really understand where I'm coming from, and in spite of a seemingly hopeless beginning, it actually has a message of incredible hope. This is so often what God will do through our great pain, is end up giving us hope and a better knowledge of His great faithfulness and unfathomable love. I do hope you'll read on after all, and receive a blessing from it.
I was pregnant for the first time in seven years, since the birth of our daughter. At a grocery store, I ran into a friend I hadn't seen for a while, and showed her my expanding middle. I was just at the 12-week point, but very much showing. I told her, "I'm beginning to wonder whether it's twins, don't you think?" She said, "No kidding." Like it was obvious.
Late the next day, though, I started to miscarry. I was glad that at the time we lived within a block of the hospital. It was surely God's provision for this whole period of our lives--we were there often for one thing or another. I'd never been through miscarriage before; the pain was intense and I thought surely they'd do something to help me in the emergency room. When we got there, it was the worst emergency room visit we ever had. We were ushered into a room and though it seemed like a quiet night there, we were left alone. We had my daughter in tow--unfortunately not much we could do but bring her along. I kept buzzing the button, hoping someone would come with pain medicine, and maybe some evaluation, advice, assurance, or something. No one came. The door was locked to the adjacent bathroom, too. My husband ran around the other side to unlock it. I miscarried one at that time; finally a bunch of medical personnel came along and evaluated the outcome. Yes, I'd miscarried, but the doctor thought I was probably not through yet. He sent me home, and said he might be seeing me again.
We went home and all seemed fine for a short while, but then it became worse than the first time around. We thought we might as well stay home considering the first time, but it wasn't the same. I was writhing in pain and eventually gave up to go back in.
At least in my more obvious agony they couldn't ignore me. After evaluating the situation, they said that the only solution was a D&C, that is, an operation called dilation and curettage. So I lost my second that night. I'd never realized before how much a woman goes through when she loses a pregnancy. The emotional pain is overwhelming.
But the amazing part is coming. I was in a recovery bed, pondering to myself how I'd only been aware of these two tiny human beings at most a few weeks--and one only a day. I'd never seen them, talked to them, named them--didn't even know if they were girls or boys. But the pain of loss was more than I could contain; I'd developed such a love for them in that short time it was beyond what my being could hold.
I wasn't thinking in the slightest of God, of faith, of Scriptures. But in the midst of my self-absorbed thoughts, God pierced through with an instantaneous set of five scriptures that had to do with His eternal love for His people. "I have loved you with an everlasting love,"(Jer 31:3 nasb); "I have engraved you on the palms of My hands,"(Isa 49:16 niv); "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,"(Jer 1:5 nasb); "I will never leave you nor forsake you,"(Heb 13:5b, nkjv); "He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world." (Eph. 1:4 nasb).
I truly had five stunning verses that day all having to do with God's eternal love and knowledge of us. Frankly, often when I try listing them from memory I come up with a slightly different assortment of five, so it's to the point that I don't remember perfectly the original set. However, I know that He tells us in many places throughout the Scriptures of how long He's known us and how much He loves us. Just as He knew that John the Baptist would be a boy, what his name would be, what his purpose was, and his effect on those around him, God also knows what we are to be. He knows every word on our tongues before one of them comes to be said (Ps 139:4). Isn't it marvelous?
So in case I'm not making my point clear, at any rate, we can be overcome with love for another, and with grief over the loss of another, who we have known, or hardly known, for such an infinitesimal fraction of time compared to how God intimately knows us. And He not only knows us well, but loves us anyway--and not humanly but in a "God is love" sense: perfectly, infinitely, completely. It exploded my previous, vague, "a lot bigger than human" picture of who God is and how He graciously loves us.
Ephesians 3:14-19 For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name, that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; and that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God.

God's Handprints

People will often say that it's in the valleys, rather than the mountaintop times, that we grow the most; it's there in the trials of life that we see God's faithfulness. This was by all means true about 8 years back, when we lost a pregnancy at 6 months along. God was so close we could sense His presence and His handprints on every aspect. I actually started writing this long before I finished; in fact the part that kept me from finishing was the pain of remembering. I realize though that the publication of this might help someone else to get through an ordeal they are dealing with. I would strongly recommend that in the process of any trial, you pray that you will see the hand of God in every aspect. I did so with this and it redeemed it like nothing else could.
We had lost a twin pregnancy at the first trimester just a few months before we found that we were expecting again. Of course we were glad to start again, but our excitement was tempered with the sobering memory of the last.
I was feeling sicker than usual pretty early into the pregnancy, and incredibly sleepy. We as a family had committed to helping with a campaign for governor that was going on at the time; I was a doorbelling coordinator for two voting districts. (I'm always great at biting off more than I can chew!) I was homeschooling our daughter for 4th grade, though for this period of time I was not able to do anything well. I remember opening my eyes from sleep with effort once, only to see her running her finger along a dusty bookshelf in her boredom--a testimony to both my lack of housekeeping and lack of involvement in her education for that stretch of time. Thankfully she was already a good reader and we had a good supply of books in which she was interested!
People would ask eventually whether I'd felt the baby move yet. I had, only passively, but I just answered in the affirmative. I was starting to grow concerned. Toward Christmas, I called to see if I could schedule an early appointment. The answering machine told me that the office was closed until after the holidays.
On a Sunday in early January, we were at church. The song that I remember that day was It is Well With My Soul. The story behind that song was a sad one. The writer had lost first his son in the great Chicago fire, then his four daughters in a shipwreck, after which his wife had sent him a telegram, "Saved alone." I was pondering whether God was bracing me to get through a pregnancy loss and still praise Him. The next day, I was scheduled to go in for a doctor appointment.
This Sunday almost all the women of the church were at a retreat. There were only a handful left, and while the men met for a Sunday school class, these few remaining women joined together to talk. They forgot for the moment that I was visibly pregnant. The topic of conversation they started with, somehow, was how women they knew had glorified God when they had lost children, whether in pregnancy or otherwise.
Suddenly they remembered that I was pregnant; I told them my concerns and the fact that the next day I had a doctor appointment. They all stopped to pray for me.
When I told the doctor that I hadn't really felt any active movement from the baby, she looked concerned. She took the doppler and tried to hear a heartbeat. She heard none. She scheduled me for an ultrasound later that day. I told her that I'd tried scheduling an appointment before Christmas but that they were closed. She looked puzzled. She said they hadn't closed except for Christmas day. I guess God wanted me to get through to January before dealing with any of this!
I went home to wait for the ultrasound appointment. It had been a bleak time: Gary's aunt had died from a stroke; then within a short time his uncle died in a motorcycling accident. We had some of the flowers from the funeral at our house. I don't know why I didn't just throw them away, but rearranging them gave my nervous hands something to do.
We had some new friends from working on the campaign, and they watched our daughter during the appointment. The ultrasound revealed no movement. The doctor recommended inducing the delivery as soon as possible, scheduled it and gave us some prescriptions.

While my husband went into the pharmacy to fill the prescriptions, I sat in the car and slowly and painfully went through the words of the song It is Well With My Soul again. The song's full meaning can only be grasped in the full story behind it, and I knew that in the saddest of times, still, the soul that knows Christ is secure. Joy and the ability to praise God does not depend on outward circumstances, no matter how personal, painful or intense. There is no suffering, no pain that Jesus does not understand, has not felt Himself. The words of the song testify to it:

When peace like a river attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll,

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

"It is well, it is well with my soul."

It is well with my soul,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

Let this blessed assurance control,

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,

And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin--O the bliss of this glorious thought!

My sin--not in part, but the whole

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more.

Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, O my soul!

Praise the Lord, it is well with my soul!

And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll.

The trump shall resound,

And the Lord shall descend,

"Even so"--it is well with my soul.

--Horatio Gates Spafford, 1828-1888

When we returned to the house of the friends who were watching my daughter, we told them what was happening. They listened, but later called us. They thought maybe we were making it up--that perhaps we were intending to abort a viable pregnancy, or that we were advised to make the wrong decision by having the delivery induced. They made many poorly chosen comments, and it only added to the strain of the situation. In their defense, we hadn't known each other very long and perhaps they thought they ought to prevent a ghastly decision. I have to admire their courage, however badly it came across at the time. They asked me to talk to a midwife they knew, and I agreed.
I called the midwife, and she only affirmed what we had been told. If we waited to deliver naturally, I could have some very bad physical ramifications. In fact I was already having some, since the baby had actually died a month before. My short-term memory was practically nonexistent. I felt horrible in general. I don't know whether the sleepiness was also due to this or just an extreme pregnancy symptom.
That midwife though was a blessing. She had been through so many pregnancy losses of her own and understood very well what I was dealing with. I could not imagine having suffered this pain so many times, but it enabled her to be understanding of others in that same trial (2 Corinthians 1:3-7). Without the referral of our mutual friends I wouldn't have had access to her assurance, and for that I was thankful.
Early the next day I was to be at the hospital to deliver. I set out to call a friend to watch our daughter; the first friend I called was going to be out that early in the morning already, to drop her husband off at work. I felt God's provision at work again here.
Ironically, I had to go through the maternity department to get to my room. I found that for this procedure, they made no hesitation to pump me full of pain-relieving drugs and who-knows-what else. I don't think I've ever had so many things going on in my system at one time.
They took many vials of blood for testing; during this, I remember a huge moan welling up from some mysterious place deep within me. I was stunned--I knew it had something to do with the grief process, but I'd never experienced it before, though I'd lost the twin pregnancy and various beloved family members. The woman drawing the blood must have seen such before. She looked compassionate and not at all shocked like I'd expect.
Because of all the drugs coursing through me, I delivered and didn't even know it. The young girl nurse who they assigned to me seemed ill-prepared to deal with this grim ordeal. She took the lifeless baby out of the room and since I had opted to see her, she brought her back to the room. Of course it wasn't the same as seeing a live baby, it was a moment I had dreaded but thought would bring closure and finality. We named her Mary Elizabeth because of the story of John the Baptist leaping in Elizabeth's womb at the recognition that Mary approached with his Savior in hers. It testified to me regarding the spirit of the unborn, bringing me comfort that as David remarked upon the loss of the baby carried by Bathsheba, I would see her again in heaven someday, alive and well--in fact, she had beaten me there already.
Perhaps the worst part was signing the death certificate. I knew the irony that existed here: I wanted that baby alive, and she had died; those who abort wouldn't be required to sign such a document. Later I sent that thought to a legislator I know, and she presented this thought in a bill that she was working on...though I don't believe it helped the bill to receive approval, perhaps it brought someone to think on those things. A social worker came into the hospital room and helped us with various decisions that seemed to add insult to the injury we'd sustained: Burial or cremation was one of them. I talked to our pastor and he didn't see any biblical requirement either way. We decided for cremation, and afterward had to go to a funeral home to make the arrangements. The hospital wasn't the last stop in this trial. Still, at the funeral home the staff there were believers and that made the experience much easier than it would have been otherwise.
I remember for one ghastly moment on my arrival home thinking that I wanted another god, one who wouldn't put me through such a thing--and then I realized my unfaithfulness, my unthankfulness, my fickleness. God is good and loving, He did even this in love, and the verse that Peter said to Christ came to mind: "To whom shall we go? You alone have the words of eternal life" (John 6:68). It was true. God is the only One through whom we can expect any good.
I was sick for quite a while afterward; had to undergo another surgery to repair some problems that occurred connected with this pregnancy; and my mind took months to get back to anything like normal. I still have forgetful times, sometimes mixing days up inexplicably; less often forgetting or switching people's names that I have no reason to forget. These memory lapses are distinct from the everyday lapses that everyone deals with, they are unique enough and stubborn enough that I recognize them as still remaining from that dark period. Perhaps that short-term memory loss was a blessing, enabling me to get through the pain of it. God had His reasons for every aspect of that loss, I know, and I can now thank Him for the many ways that He showed His presence in my life. I thank Him also for His sovereignty, that His purposes that we can't understand will prevail, according to His plan, His wisdom...even though we would never choose them on our own. Better His will than mine.