Susan, I thought of you as I was reading this.
"In God's economy, there's no such thing as coincidence."
(Albany, Oregon)—Christmas 1987 brought a gift of peace to our family that truly surpassed all understanding. It brought hope, faith and trust as well. For all you readers out there struggling with unresolved fears, regrets, and the temptation to give-up, this story is for you.
At the age of 36, having already given birth to two beautiful children, I found myself desperately wanting another one. Never mind that at my age, after several years of trying and having a miscarriage, I should have resigned myself to contentment with my two. But hormones aren't rational; neither is faith.
The miscarriage I suffered was devastating. I had blamed myself for not resting at first, but the doctor had assured me nothing I would have done could have prevented it. For months I was angry at God. So angry, that I couldn't even worship Him. In the fall of 1986, my husband talked me into going to a church play. The theme was faith, and God powerfully used the main character in the play—a woman robbed of everything she owned but her tiny gift of faith—to speak directly to me.
He whispered to me, "Do you believe I am real?"
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and whispered back, "Beyond a shadow of a doubt, God, I KNOW you're real."
We were jump-starting our relationship again, God and I. Back to square one. One month later, two weeks before Christmas, I found out I was pregnant again. A coincidence? I don't think so.
But, on Christmas Eve I began to have symptoms of another miscarriage. This time, instead of panicking, I prayed. And this time God told me to rest, despite what the doctors had said. It's hard for a mom to rest on Christmas, but I did. My family prayed for me, and I experienced an indescribable, saturating peace that day. I KNEW I was in God's hands and that nothing would ever separate us. You can't put a price-tag on that kind of peace. Nothing the world offers can come close.
The symptoms of a miscarriage continued for a few more days as I continued to rest. One elderly and Godly prophetic man in our church prayed for me. He said, "You will have this baby and it will be a perfect 10." Within 24 hours the cramping stopped and almost 8 months later I gave birth—via C-section—to a healthy, beautiful baby girl.
C-section babies generally score lower on the newborn Apgar test, of which 10 is the highest (perfect) score. Imagine my reaction when the nurse took my baby and exclaimed to the doctor, "Wow. This baby is a perfect 10!"
A coincidence? I don't think so.
Have a blessed, miraculous Christmas one and all!
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