Just over 20 years ago, I was pregnant with my 3rd child. 9 months along, to be exact.
My husband at the time had met someone and informed me that he wanted to separate. He said, “You are free to date. I care for you but I’m not in love with you.”
I remember looking down at my very pregnant belly and saying ‘You’re telling me to go date?’
He left within minutes and showed up sporadically after that.
God’s fingerprints weren’t evident to me at this time but they were so visible after.
My OB doctor was a Christian man who had 3 members of staff, all faithful Christians. He’d been there through the birth of my other two children and was a remarkably beautiful man because of his demeanor as a Christ follower.
I shared with him that it was just me now. I wasn’t quite sure how this was all going to work, but there was only going forward. I’ve never forgotten the compassion and the care that his staff gave me. Loving me along the way, they felt like family and encouraged me so greatly along the rest of my journey. I delivered a healthy son with this doctor by my side. At follow up visits, the staff went above and beyond to encourage me and love on me. Instead of tears or uncertainty, there was shared laughter and love surrounding me. Soon after, I wanted to ensure that I wouldn’t have any more children; regardless of what my future held. I’ve never forgotten what the receptionist said “You never know what God has in store and to trust in that future”. I laughed and mentioned that though I might not make any rash decisions now, I was certain of that one thing: God’s fingerprints in this remarkable, unique staff. (And that they were placed in my life BEFORE the ground fell away.)
The term ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ was my internal motto and I was determined to survive. Funny thing is that I have always rooted for the underdog. I was the underdog in so many ways in this season of my life. In an odd way, it seemed fitting… A few weeks in, worry and sleep deprivation kicked in. I had some rough moments trying to hold it all together. One day in particular sticks out in my mind: I came out of my upstairs bedroom in the early morning hours and fell prostrate. Overcome with grief and heartache. I didn’t know how to go on. My reserves were empty. I distinctly remember a voice telling me ‘Get Up, Follow Me’ in my head. God’s command to me. I lay there for a moment longer and realized that I didn’t need to go the marathon, I just needed to take a step in faith. Moment after moment, one step at a time, and follow God in this. I rose from the ground and went to the stairs and saw my 4 year old son eating Cheerios straight from the box. It was as though I clearly saw again. The scales had fallen from my eyes. I had small children who needed my complete presence, and I theirs. And we would be okay no matter what the days held. A pivotal moment when I encountered God so personally. God’s fingerprint.
In subsequent months, my small group bonded together and, in a brief meeting, asked me to open my car trunk. They had something for me. They filled my trunk with diapers and necessities and presents for the three kids and I (Christmas was coming upon us). They added goodies and candles and homely touches. It astounded me and brings tears back to my eyes as I reflect on such kindness. In such humility. God’s fingerprints were present in how these women loved me.
I went on to remarry and have another child, Blake. The words spoken in love, faith, and wisdom from that receptionist coming to fruition. Yet another example of God's fingerprints in my life.
The story continues in how God takes care of me. Not without struggle but strong in God’s care for me. He walked before me and I am simply asked to follow.
Published on 08/27/2019 @ 3:37 PM PDT
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