Waves

I was prepared for waves of nausea, fatigue, and something that varied from discomfort to pain for a full 40 weeks. No doubt crescendoing at the end.

I was not at all, however, prepared for wave upon wave of emotion - crashing on one another and making it difficult to get footing between assails. High tide, low tide. Thrill. Panic.

....

Monday night, as Webb and I left work, we planned to run some errands. We were headed about twenty minutes away, to Wal Mart, when I asked, "Babe...do you think we could eat at Longhorn? It just sounds really, really good to me."

"I don't mind, but that's an hour away. You are realizing that means our entire night will be out and about, right?"

"I do. I know. It just sounds really, really good right now. And not many things do."

He sighed a bit, but smiled, "Sure. Longhorn it is."

My husband. Such a gracious husband to moody, unsatisfiable, pregnant woman.

As we neared the next town though, I threw out another request, "But babe, we have an hour drive and it's going to be an hour and a half before we eat. And I'm hungry now...really hungry..."

"Ok?"

"Can we just drive through McDonald's here on the way?" I suggested it like this is something normal people do - pre-dinner dinner.

"Let me make sure I'm right," he clarified. "You want to drive through for a cheeseburger, and then you want to eat a steak?"

"I know! But I'm just so hungry! I haven't eaten since 8:00 this morning!"

"Amanda. That's a little bit crazy. It won't take long to get there, I promise."

And the quick-approaching McDonald's was on our left, and then it was in the rearview mirror.

He drove by it. And I, instead of contenting my heart with the steak I would eat in just a bit, BURST into tears. Not teared up, or was just disappointed. No. BROKE into SOBBING.

"Oh my gosh!!" the shocked man in the seat beside me slammed on brakes, swerved into the turn lane, and made a beeline for McDonald's.

"I didn't realize it was this serious! You just want a cheeseburger, right?" he asked with slight panic in his voice.

"Yes..." I uttered between sobs.

..."And a small fry."...

At that, laughter broke the tension of the moment just a bit. I heard how ridiculous I sounded and started cracking up. And he laughed, knowing I was completely out of control and I knew it.

"Can I get a mighty kids meal, with a Diet Coke, please?" he requested.

I sat beside him crying, apologizing and thanking, "I'm sorry! But thank you. I'm sorry!"

When I offered him some fries or a bite of burger, he shook his head like, "Take food from a lion? What kind of idiot does that?"

And we laughed. And an hour later I ate four ounces of steak and a baked potato. Could have eaten more.

I wasn't at all prepared for these waves. Tears at the slightest thing. And I certainly thought if I had navigated the first trimester without any of this, it surely wasn't coming for me. I would make it through pregnancy unscathed! False.

But I am so thankful for such a wonderful husband. I tell him every single day, "You are the most amazing husband any pregnant woman could have. You know that, right?" To which he often replies, "I do know that," with a smirk on his face.

But why all the waves? Why the crashing down of thrill, panic, sadness, excitement, worry, anticipation...one right after the other?

Now more than ever I need the peace only He gives. His joy - a calm delight. And yet every offer He extends, I refuse. If I am to receive peace, I must forego my striving. I must settle my agenda. I, with no exceptions, must surrender - exchanging myself and my plans for true, lasting peace.

This is the peace I've prayed over our son. The reason his nursery is decorated in neutral, calm colors. The reason I often pat my belly and speak softly and reassuringly to him. The very peace that I want him to have more than almost anything else.

And yet, I expect myself to pass on something I am refusing for myself. My son will not simply, "Do as I say." I know this. He will take his cues from who I am. He will walk the way I walk. I cannot pass on what I do not hold.

"The Lord will fight for you. You need only to hold your peace."

Picture it - He hands us peace and says, "Hold this. I'll be right back." And that is our only job. To hold it, ponder it, let it feel at home in our hands.

Today, that is your only job. Forget all the rest of it. He only looked at you and said, "Hold this. I'll do the rest." You must, if you don't do anything else, clutch it. Don't let your hands be so full of all else that you have to let go of the one thing that will help you endure all that otherness.

That's what I'm speaking to myself today. "No matter the wave, wrap yourself around the peace. Though you tumble through the water, unable to distinguish up from down, cling to the peace. For this is only a wave. It has an end. And what you hold does not. It is inexhaustible."

"He will fight for you. You need only to hold your peace."

      (Photo credit:  Ann Voskamp)