The Promise

On a cold February morning eight years ago, the world seemed to be crumbling around me. The doctors' voices seemed unreal as their hushed phrases echoed in my blurry mind-- "Not much time," I heard. "Kidney failure.. save the baby... mom's a time bomb.. BP rising.. 24 hours, max." I heard the last words "seizure, stroke, coma, death," but they floated by without any concern on my part. They wouldn't let that happen. They would take our baby first. A baby who I knew was not ready to be born. At least that's what science told us. April seemed a world away, the month we were supposed to have our baby. But the events of the last few weeks had made it obvious we wouldn't get that far. Preeclampsia had reared its head and bed rest hadn't helped. The baby wasn't growing anymore and I'd long since stopped feeling. We'd already brought one stillborn child into the world, buried her and moved on with life. If I had to do it again, I needed to mentally prepare myself. But that February morning, quite unexpectedly, something else got a hold of me and flooded my consciousness.. something I have no words to describe except "hope." Almost in spite of myself, I dared to hope that just maybe, God had something bigger planned.


After the stillbirth, years of infertility and several miscarriages, we had come so far to get to this point. Why would God allow this pregnancy to progress so far, only to end in tragedy again? No, I wanted to believe that He was up to something. Something special. In the quiet darkness of that hospital room, I made a promise. I promised God that day, that if this hope of mine were true-- if He saw fit to perform a miracle, and allow both myself and the baby to come out of this healthy, I would tell everyone I met for the rest of my life what God had done for me. I would shout His goodness from the rooftops for all the world to hear!  I would dedicate this child to Him, and my life to bringing Him glory.  If He did not, we would praise Him anyway and continue to trust in His will.

I'm writing this today because God in His mercy saw fit to fullfill the hope He had placed in my heart. The next afternoon, the baby who was not supposed to breathe on his own, DID. Just three weeks later on February 28th, we brought our "April baby" home in perfect health, with a healthy mom to boot! That is what my wonderful, amazing, powerful God did for me. I am here to tell you, not just that He's been good to me, but that He is good, all the time. No matter the odds, no matter your past, no matter what the "experts" say, there is always, always HOPE. We serve a mighty miracle-working God, who loves us deeply and will bless us beyond our wildest dreams, if we will only put our trust in Him. That's my story.