God as an after thought

           When I was a little,  I remember thinking that there was nothing in this world that could hurt me.    There were no cares, only smiles and the occasional scraped knee.  I went to my mom for comfort when I was sad or scared and she made it better.

           When I became a teenager I rebelled, as most teenagers do.  The world had become a much more hurtful place, and it wasn't as easy to go to my mom when I was sad or scared.   I wanted to fit in so badly that I tried on each social group until I found the one that fit.  Unfortunately for me it meant squeezing myself into groups that were not only the wrong fit but not who I was.  I felt like the "christians" were to big for me to try on for size.  The ones that met out front in the courtyard to pray every morning.  I was intrigued by there seemingly happy demeanors, and slight maturity they seemed to have over the rest of us. None the less, I didn't feel like I could ever fit in with them.

           Being a teenager was a very confusing time in my life.  I didn't know much about God and I wasn't quite sure I knew what to believe then either.  I had a friend who lived in my neighborhood that went to a youth group on Wednesday nights, and she had invited me along to join her.

         When I arrived I felt instantly accepted.  How is this possible?  I had to pretend to be something I wasn't to fit in anywhere else.  These people didn't know one thing about me and they welcomed me with open arms.  This day would shape my life in a way that I wouldn't come to realize till much later.

        I attended the youth group for a few months and slowly I stopped going.  That "new christian" feeling started to fade and the old familiar groups became a lot more interesting to me. It would take me another seven years before I would welcome that feeling again.

        Sitting in a hospital room waiting for the doctor to come back with news that would change my life forever.  "you're leaking water, your baby is just too young to survive, we can induce your labor today."
I stared at the ceiling my mother clenching my hand.  I looked to her but knew she couldn't make this better.  For the first time I felt the sharp stab of life pierce my heart.  Something in this world had hurt me and I would never be the same.  I was told that I had the option to go home but that my labor would surely start on it's own.  I decided that home was a better option for me, so home I went.

        Laying in the dark I thought about how long it would be.  How would I survive this horrible loss.  I began grieving my daughter while I felt her kicking me.  I thought about all the things I had planned for her life and started filing them away accepting her fate was out of my hands.  Her fate was out of my hands, but maybe not out of God's hands.

       I started my prayer with something along the lines of " I know it's been a while, but...." Then I stopped.  What's the point?   It's not like He is going to reach down and stop this from happening.  I tossed and turned until I was woken up with an overwhelming feeling that I needed to pray, and I needed to pray hard.  So I did.  I think I prayed until I feel asleep.

       A week had passed and nothing had happened.  Another week passed, and then another.  A momentous occasion, I had reached 24 weeks.  I thanked the lord for that but knew there were plenty more hurdles ahead.  It was a long stay on bed rest but the day I reached 39 weeks my labor was induced and I held my miracle baby.  The baby I thought I'd never hold was looking at me. I cried tears of joy.

       Fast forward five years sitting in a hospital room and the words that would surely change the course of my life again came, " I'm sorry there's no heartbeat, your baby is gone."  This time not even God himself could change the outcome.  But I still prayed.  I prayed all night until I fell asleep.  My labor was induced and this time I held my lifeless baby.  No tears of joy only tears of sorrow.  I was angry that God hadn't fixed it this time.

      I had spent much of my "christian" life trying to stay out of God's way.  If I kept on the straight and narrow He wouldn't notice me.  Surely there are too many people in this world for Him to think about what I'm doing.  I prayed when I needed something, or just to check in.  Instilled the values into my children but never treated it as a relationship.  God was more of an after thought. I know that sounds horrible, but I hadn't thought about putting Him first.  I hadn't thought about the relationship.

       The days and weeks following Nathans birth I found myself talking to God a lot more.  Sometimes yelling more than talking.  I wasn't asking for things this time, just talking.  I could feel Him comfort me, and see that He was listening to me. I could hear Him telling me it was okay.  It was okay to be sad.  It was okay to be angry.  Then I heard Him say, it is not your fault, you are not being punished.  A burden that I was quietly carrying He heard loud and clear.  It's not your fault.  The pressure I felt in my chest began to lift and I could breathe a little easier. 


       It's not my fault


         I repeated it over and over.  There was nothing I could have done to change what happened to Nathan.  I didn't cause it and I couldn't fix it.

        God was with me the whole time even when I wasn't with Him.  He never left my side even though I left His.  I was His priority even when He wasn't mine.  All He wants is a relationship with me.  When I am hurting He wants me to give it to Him.  When I am joyful He wants me to share that with Him.  When I am angry He wants me to tell Him.

       He just wants me to think of him first and not as an after thought.