It’s felt good to just be home this week. To get past the craziness of the holidays. To have time to cuddle with my little girl and start to love on our sadly-neglected house. I was sick over Christmas and New Years, which definitely made travelling a lot more interesting. Flying with already plugged ears is not something I would recommend. While I normally shy away from medications (especially when pregnant), I finally had to admit to myself I was truly sick, and take the prescribed meds in order to feel better. It was amazing how quickly the medication began to help. God certainly has given us a gift in modern medicine!
In a little over a week I get to experience one more modern marvel, an ultrasound! It will be wonderful seeing all the intricate parts of my baby. The first time around, I was amazed by the heart and brain especially, I’m sure I’ll love seeing it all once again.
But can I be honest with you?
I’ve been dealing with a lot of anxiety as well. Anxiety over the safety of my baby while I was taking the antibiotics. Anxiety over the fact that I don’t feel consistent fetal movement as of yet. Anxiety over this ultrasound coming up, if anything out of the ordinary will be revealed.
Satan preys upon my weaknesses. He always has. He’s known that worrying is one of my greatest vices. It’s been that way since I was a little girl.
It’s funny, I think my last post may have talked about worrying as well.
But worrying about your child, now that’s a worry that never ends. There will always been things to worry about when it comes to this little child. Sure they’ll one day grow up into independent adults, but then the types of worry just change. The worries go from thriving in the womb, to childhood sicknesses, safety with babysitters, if I’ve handled things right as a parent, to independence, letting them take the car, if they’ll make the right decisions with friends, if they’re truly doing alright living on their own, if they’re happy, content, fulfilled.
In fact, even at the age of (almost) thirty, I’m sure my momma still worries about me.
But my Jesus knows this. He understands this vice. And while the world may tell me that it’s a natural thing to worry about your children, I know otherwise. I combat the lies with scripture. I take the things that could paralyze, and I put them at the foot of the cross, surrounded by prayer. Each day, each moment of worry is released, time and again.
I know it’s often quoted, but can I turn anywhere else than a section entitled “The Cure of Anxiety?” I think not. This portion of scripture is written upon my heart. Do you need to pray it over your life today as well?
“This is why I tell you: Don’t worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Isn’t life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the sky: They don’t sow or reap or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth more than they? Can any of you add a single cubit to his height by worrying? And why do you worry about clothes? Learn how the wildflowers of the field grow: they don’t labor or spin thread. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was adorned like one of these! If that’s how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and thrown into the furnace tomorrow, won’t He do much more for you—you of little faith? So don’t worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For the idolaters eagerly seek all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you. Therefore don’t worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" (Matthew 6: 25-34, HCSB).