Erik and I have been hopping around from church to church across New Orleans, attempting to get a snapshot of the Christian culture of the city. We've been to Catholic Mass in the parish, we've done presbyterian, baptist, charismatic, christian church, Acts 29, and a few others. Sometimes I approach ready and hoping to encounter God in these places, seeing the Holy Spirit move throughout the city. Sometimes I go begrudgingly and tired. Sometimes they are predictable and sometimes unexpected and uncomfortable. It was one of these Sunday mornings that I was prodded to be prayed over for healing. For whatever reason, I had two miscarriages in a year and half, doctors calling it "bad luck".
I didn't go up to be prayed over for healing. I was too scared. What if it didn't work? What if God chose not to heal me? What if it wasn't something to be healed, but a deliberate calling God had for me, a barren woman? I couldn't deal with the rejection of not being healed. Instead, I remained uncomfortably in my seat, prodded, but refusing to rise. In my struggle with infertility, I hadn't considered praying for physical healing until this moment. I had prayed for forgiveness in the light of my immorality, believing that God was punishing or disciplining me for a past of sin. I had prayed for a miracle, prayed for a baby, prayed about adoption... but never for a physical healing.
I began praying myself for a physical healing. A couple of weeks later, I unknowingly conceived for the 3rd time while on a vision trip in the Domincan Republic. Two weeks after that, I peed on a stick, and that beautiful word "pregnant" appeared on a once blank screen. I was hesitant, avoiding the doctor for almost three weeks... as I could only imagine yet another disappointment. But nothing happened... and then my doctor did our first ultrasound. A beautiful heartbeat. We went in a week later and the baby measured healthy with a heart beat near a perfect 150 beats/minute.
And so, I'm left wondering if God healed me. Was I broken? I suppose I'll never know if praying for the healing was what changed our struggle with infertility. We are still very near the beginning of this nine month road, and I suppose God can still do what He will with this pregnancy, just like he did with the others. I do know that I will never take this miracle for granted or passively. I love this baby inside me all ready, and now I thank God for the possibility of motherhood.
I didn't go up to be prayed over for healing. I was too scared. What if it didn't work? What if God chose not to heal me? What if it wasn't something to be healed, but a deliberate calling God had for me, a barren woman? I couldn't deal with the rejection of not being healed. Instead, I remained uncomfortably in my seat, prodded, but refusing to rise. In my struggle with infertility, I hadn't considered praying for physical healing until this moment. I had prayed for forgiveness in the light of my immorality, believing that God was punishing or disciplining me for a past of sin. I had prayed for a miracle, prayed for a baby, prayed about adoption... but never for a physical healing.
I began praying myself for a physical healing. A couple of weeks later, I unknowingly conceived for the 3rd time while on a vision trip in the Domincan Republic. Two weeks after that, I peed on a stick, and that beautiful word "pregnant" appeared on a once blank screen. I was hesitant, avoiding the doctor for almost three weeks... as I could only imagine yet another disappointment. But nothing happened... and then my doctor did our first ultrasound. A beautiful heartbeat. We went in a week later and the baby measured healthy with a heart beat near a perfect 150 beats/minute.
And so, I'm left wondering if God healed me. Was I broken? I suppose I'll never know if praying for the healing was what changed our struggle with infertility. We are still very near the beginning of this nine month road, and I suppose God can still do what He will with this pregnancy, just like he did with the others. I do know that I will never take this miracle for granted or passively. I love this baby inside me all ready, and now I thank God for the possibility of motherhood.