I think that 40 days is a “special” amount of days.
Its the amount of days we can survive without food.
Its the amount of days Jesus was on the earth after he rose from the dead.
Its the amount of days it rained while Noah was on the ark.
Its the amount of days it took Moses to download the 10 Commandments from God.
Its the amount of days I have to go until my due date, and honestly, I’m praying God does something Jesus, Noah, Moses sized in my heart, mind and body during those days.
I had a few moments alone with God this week as I sat in the hospital, waiting for the proof to come that I did not in fact have pneumonia, and it all felt so surreal. All this life stuff. All the baby stuff. All the being a Mommy stuff, it seemed to whirl around me as I stared at the very baby beds that can bring such joy or sadness into a person’s life. I sat there and reminisced my way through each child’s birth (I was sitting in the exact hallway that contained both the happiest and saddest moments of my life) and wondered what these next 40 days would hold.
For some, those last 40 days of pregnancy carry unexpected turns of sudden pain and loss. While I don’t live in fear that that will happen with Samuel, I make no assumptions to know what tomorrow may bring. On Thursday I had no inkling at all that the doctors would become concerned that my cough turned into bronchitis and maybe pneumonia. I kept on thinking “I’m sorry, say what?!? What am I DOING here?? I’m fine. Right?” You just don’t know. Which has gotten me dwelling on God a lot. More than usual.
He really has become my best friend. I mean I have known Him for 12 years now, but my most content moments have become the ones when I can just talk to Him. Cry to Him. Lean on Him. I never once felt alone in that hospital room. I felt His closeness heavy on me like a blanket and I knew that no matter what the next 40 days brings for me that He will be here to guide me.
I think those words have the potential to sound trite or weird even, but if Gideon taught me anything it is that unashamedly my story is my story. I am who I am and I don’t make this stuff up. God is near to the broken hearted who call out to Him. He just is. And trust me, I will be crying out to Him alot over these next 40 days.
As I paged through my prayer journal from over this past year and a half I kept on reading the same thing over and over again…
“God I am weary, so tired from hurting. Can you help me?”
“God my body is so weak, please have mercy on me?”
“God I am down and full of sorrow and it is affecting me as a mother and wife…will you give me strength please?”
“Lord when will the days of blissful joy return?”
Make no mistake, these are not easy conversations God and I have and I find myself toggling often between begging for forgiveness for losing my patience AGAIN and begging for relief. But they are conversations nonetheless and they have helped me accept both the blessings and difficulties. Shall I only accept all the good all the time? Shall I instead only praise when things go my way?
If I had my way Gideon would be here and my body would not have had to go through pregnancy again. This all would have ended back in August 2014 when I found out I was pregnant and my little family would have been complete. That would have been my way. The easier route. And I am tempted to want an easier route now too.
Forget 40 more days, if I had it my way there would be 18 more days to go…Samuel would come the exact day he turns full term and off we’d go. Healthy baby boy being kissed in abundance in my arms and no more peeing my pants whenever I half cough or sneeze. Onto happiness! That’s “my way.” But in all my back and forth God rants I always end in the same place, “Not my will God, but yours be done.”
I want the greater plan, the one with the complex eternal peace of having a son in heaven and getting to have another amazing bundle. I yearn for the greater plan for others too. As I obsess over other Mom’s and families who have lost babies and children, I know that its not something most people want to say. “How can I talk to a God who let my baby be taken from me?” Today, will you pray for them with me? Pray for those who don’t have the venting session closeness of a God who loves them so. Pray for the realization to come that God doesn’t want anything from us other than our intentional love and affection, no matter how much questioning it comes with.
I am steadying myself for a “definitely not so easy next 40 days” and I am praying for your next 40 days too. What does your next 40 days hold? Can trusting in a bigger and better plan for those days give you a Godly perspective?