Not Alone

by Joe and Sarah

It seems only appropriate to begin describing Luke's birthday by starting the story the day before he arrived- his final day in my belly.  As I had written about before, I had been feeling rather "peaceful" until the reality hit me that this was my last day being pregnant with Luke.  My final day to be able to talk to him whenever I wanted, the final day I would feel his presence inside me, the final day I would struggle to bend over and pick something up off the floor, feel him kick, be able to reach down and gently rub my belly and dream about the little guy in there.  I woke up anxious, overwhelmed and crying.  From the very beginning of the day, I had an extremely heavy heart and spirit.  Joe and I had decided the evening before not to go to church that morning not because we didn't think it was important, but more because I simply did not think I could handle everyone's well wishes, tears, supportive hugs and love.  I knew I was beginning to go underwater emotionally- I was completely flooded.

After a quiet brunch at a favorite spot of ours in town, we returned home to tackle what remained of our giant to-do list to prepare as best we could for the hospital and Luke's arrival.  How do you prepare for the complete unknown?  We packed our bags, picked out movies to watch in the hospital, loaded books into bags, went to the grocery store, sweet Joe cleaned our house from top to bottom, we gassed up the car, paid bills, worked on the blog, wrote some thank you notes and tried to get ourselves organized.  It was a busy day, but also somewhat of a relief to have things to keep our hands occupied.  I found myself crying off and on throughout the day- for no particular reason, just sad that my time with Luke was growing shorter and shorter as my feelings of anxiety, fear and nervousness were continuing to grow.

While out for dinner that night we ran into some friends whom we greatly enjoy, but I was not feeling especially social or chatty.  The only person I wanted to be around, talk to or see was Joe.  I found myself silently praying that our friends would not bring up or mention Luke because I knew that I was teetering right on the edge of a complete sobbing meltdown...the kind where I would not be able to compose myself even if I tried my hardest.  Luckily our difficult day ahead with Luke was not brought up when we briefly stopped by their table on our way out the door.  I could barely make eye contact with them for fear that I would crumble.  I slumped myself into the car feeling like I had escaped a final public breakdown using my last bit of strength...even though my tears were hiding (maybe not too well) right at the edge of my eyelids.

Crawling into bed that night, we were both emotionally and physically exhausted.  We spent time together praying over our son, about our upcoming stay in the hospital, specifics from our prayer requests, crying, just trying desperately to surrender ourselves to what was coming and to brace ourselves for the unknown reality that finally getting to meet our son held for us.  Joe drifted in and out of a light sleep all night, while I did not sleep for more than maybe thirty minutes total.  I tossed and turned, cried, prayed, stared up to heaven and just tried with all my might to not wake up Joe...I could not rest...spiritually, physically, mentally or emotionally.  And I was exhausted before going to bed.

The only reason I know I even drifted off for a few minutes (trust me, I was watching that clock) was because at one point that night, I believe I received a word directly from God. In the pit of that night, in my darkest hour, I know I did.  It happened at 2:37am (to be exact) when I awoke from my brief thirty minute slumber to go to the bathroom.  Immediately upon waking, all I could think over and over and over was the phrase, "My peace I give you."  Over and over and over.  I absolutely know without a doubt that that thought did not come from me- I was anything but peaceful and had not even been thinking about peace! (just being honest!)  It is also in language and phrasing that I don't use.  Plus, just the phrase "My peace"- I have been fresh out of my own peace for months, so it had to be God offering me his.  I just kept thinking that phrase over and over and over for hours that night and I began to believe and trust that God was with me and would be with us the following day when we would need Him most.  I could literally feel myself settling and calming down as I clung to the word He had given me and began to believe that He had not forgotten us or abandoned us.  I could hardly wait for Joe to wake up so I could tell him.

Starting from those moments deep in the night and going forward into Luke's birthday, whenever (and it was OFTEN) I felt myself beginning to panic or lose it emotionally (getting ready, at the hospital, getting prepped for the surgery, receiving my epidural...time and time again), I just repeated that phrase to myself over and over, "My peace I give you." and I would again immediately feel myself relaxing and calming down. It was that powerful and that real.  His peace.  He gave it and I clung desperately to it and it truly sustained me every minute of Luke's birthday- my most difficult and beautiful day.

Several nights later, the very first card Joe and I opened upon leaving the hospital stopped me in my tracks.  On the front of the card was the verse John 14:27.  It reads:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. - John 14:27


To be sure, we were absolutely not alone on Luke's birthday- and this was only the beginning of how God showed up....