The week where God rocks {and I weep}.

07 Aug The week where God rocks {and I weep}.

Last week was an emotional week for me. To be fair, I hear that pregnant women are more emotional in general. But if this has been my most puke-filled pregnancy, it’s also been the most tear-filled. After three days of tears, we climbed into bed and I whispered my deepest fear to James, “Do you think I’m becoming a feeler?!” He assured me such absurdity could never happen. Crisis avoided. As I thought through what made this week so exhausting, I thought it only appropriate to record the Lord’s mighty hand in the midst of it all. It’s what I continuously look for, and He doesn’t disappoint!

Tuesday
I made a call to our baby doctor with a question about some things we’ve been thinking through. The conversation went downhill faster than I knew what was happening (Anne suggested I said too much to the wrong person–surely this has never happened before), and I left the conversation, in short, unsure of our status with this doctor. I was super sad about it, felt misunderstood, and didn’t know what our next steps would be. So I cried.

Wednesday morning
On the way home from a friend’s house, the van started shaking. Shaking, as in, I thought it would stall at any moment. We knew when we purchased the van that the transmission would eventually need to be replaced ($4,000 new but we’re hopeful to get away with a used one). We just hoped (1) “eventually” would be in a couple of years and (2) that our emergency fund would be fully intact at that point (ahem, not have our basement flood). Well, last month, Steve told us the tranny’s on its way out. Since then, we have been diligently praying that the Lord would supernaturally hold our car together for at least another half-year until we could get the funds together. So with this shaking, I knew, just knew, that this giant repair was upon us, that we couldn’t afford it today, that we’d be a one-car family til February, that come February three car seats won’t fit in the back of the Camry, that we won’t be able to travel anywhere as a whole family for the next year…you get the gist. Anxiety wiped away any faith I had claimed to have. I called the mechanic and scheduled to take it in that night. Then I hung up the phone and cried out my worries.

A few minutes later, the phone rang again. It was the chiropractor. The previous day I had called regarding our new insurance and the $50 price increase for our visits. I asked shy of sweeping their floors, how could we get this down to a sustainable price? The reason it’s so important to me is that with Corban, I never went and was in huge pain, even to walk, from 20 weeks to the end. With Jaeda, I went once a month, then twice a month, and had ZERO hip flexor pain! I’m a believer, and I was so hopeful to use them again. But at $70 a visit leading to $140 a month (!), we just couldn’t do it. So a few minutes after I’m sure we’ve lost our van, she calls me back, says she talked to Dr. Matt and they’d be happy to meet us at…wait for it, $25/visit. Cue the ugly cry. Poor woman was concerned, “Are you okay? Is that doable for you guys?” “Yeees,” I squawk. “It’s just that I didn’t think we could do it, and with our van, and this is gonna be so helpful, and ohmygoodness thank you so much!” I’m sure she was shaking her head, wondering if I’d thought we’d won the lottery instead of just getting good chiropractic care. With a few minutes to calm myself down, I heard the Holy Spirit reassuring me. “Do you think that was hard for me, child? Do you think it’d be any harder to take care of your van? The sparrows don’t worry about what they’ll eat or drink, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. How much more do I love you, a daughter of the King?” My faith grew back into the little seed that it was, and with great thankfulness, I put the tissues away.

Wednesday afternoon
Since I needed the car for the afternoon for a little kidless mom friend time, James came home for lunch, and we dropped him back off. On our way, I asked if it was really worth it to take the van in, pay for the diagnostic, when we know the issue is something we can’t pay for right now. He wondered if maybe, just maybe it was something else, something we hadn’t considered, a small fix that could buy us some time. My seed-like faith couldn’t imagine that there’d be any small fixes, seems like they’re all big ones. Then he said, “Sarah, we’re gonna get to the end of this and we’ll look back and we’ll see that God was faithful. So do we want to get there and say, ‘Oh look, God was faithful; I wish we would’ve trusted Him’? Or do we want to look back, see His hand through it all, and know that we were faithful to trust Him? He is a good God!” (I’m pretty sure I teared up through this as well, but alas no tissues were to be found in the car.)

So I dropped the kids off with Amy, many difficult thoughts on my mind, and continued on to our mom’s group gathering. It was a wonderfully refreshing time for us all (and many tears were shed even from non-pregnant women, so I felt in better company). As I was sharing my summer update, I mentioned how much James had picked up my slack and how amazing he’d been and how others had brought us a couple meals and how difficult it is to be in need but what I’ve been learning through this time. Then one of the gals offered to start a Meal Train for us. The formality of an actual website dedicated to bringing us meals…you guessed it, brought on the tears by the buckets. For someone to pop over with a meal was kind…and a little easier to accept. But to have a site for others to sign up was really, really, really hard to take in. But it was also really, really, really relieving. Someone had heard and said, This need is greater than just today; we’ll help until you’re better. I went three whole days without throwing up (then it hit me with a vengeance again yesterday and today), so I believe better days are near! (And I really hope so because in a month, we’ve got our annual Father-Daughter Retreat, and I just don’t want to be miserable in the woods of northern Michigan!)

Thursday
We got the call back from Steve. We waited with baited breath for the quote…and gasped. Turns out, it was a little $100 part (insert automotive term here) that was just a routine replacement. Nobody saw it coming. I was shocked. Shocked. I’d already prepared myself to be a one-car family and was expecting that God would work somehow in that area. But that we fixed the van right then and there and had it back the next day, WOW. You better believe I cried.

I bring up the specifics of these numbers not because money matters, but because details point to God in a way that generalizations just don’t. To say, we needed a lot of money for the van, but then it turned out to be just a little isn’t enough. To see God change a $4,000 fix into a $100 fix, THAT’S God’s handiwork. From $70 to $25, WOW. God did that! These things are why we keep a God Rocks journal. Because our my faith is so finicky, so forgetful. It’s not enough just to keep the journal but also to review it. To remember monthly, annually God’s faithfulness to us as He calls us to faithfulness to Him in bigger, harder things. He is good good good, and we are glad glad glad.