20 Weeks

When I was 20 weeks pregnant with my second son, I went into premature labor. Just fyi, this was not good because people are supposed to be pregnant for around 40 weeks. Having the baby come out when it is only halfway “done” is not so ideal.

I go to the hospital and as soon as I tell them what is going on, they immediately start hooking me up to machines and doing billions of tests. They say that they are doing all of this as a way to figure out what is happening and what is not happening; essentially, as they say:

“We need to figure out which battle we’re fighting. It could be this, it could be this, we really don’t want it to be this, we think it may be this but we’re not sure.”

While this was going on, and afterwards, I remembered something that author Larry Crabb had written about being in a hospital that he realized after he had collapsed one day in his driveway and had to be driven to the hospital in an ambulance. Being poked and prodded and tubed reminded me of a question Crabb had asked after his trip to the Emergency Room, which is: Who has worked that hard to know what battle was going on in my soul?

In the hospital, I got asked over a hundred questions, got dozens of instructions, like push this button every time you feel this, don’t touch that, lay on your left side, try this, be careful with that, and they watched me closely throughout the night. They wanted to identify the real battle, to know if I was close to losing it, and to determine the best way to help.

I wondered (along with Crabb); “Who has been that concerned about my inner personal struggles? Do I really have to convince someone to be that interested? And, on the other hand, whose questions would I be willing to answer if they were asked? Would I say to myself it’s my business while politely deflecting their inquiries, thinking perhaps that my personal privacy is too precious to give up?”

He goes further: “Has anyone ever actually witnessed the contortions my soul sometimes goes through? Whom do I trust enough to be my confessor, to see up close the blood that spills during my spiritual battles, the cowardly retreats I sometimes take, the fears that occasionally paralyze me? If the answer is no one, then all the words of encouragement I could ever hear have no more power than the canned sentimental poetry inside a Hallmark card.

The question is, are we willing to lose our personal privacy so that a few people can speak deeply into a battle they understand?”

This life is a battle that we cannot win by ourselves.

We need a community that is waging the same war and walking the same path together. I need people to enter my struggle and help me recognize what the real battle is so I don’t spend my life fighting lesser ones.

You know what I mean by lesser ones? Distracting ones, battles that don’t really matter ultimately, but that take my attention away from what does matter? For example, what if I had gone to the doctor and been in all kinds of pain and said I was worried about my unborn child and my doctor had said: “First of all ma’am, your baby’s life may be in jeopardy, but did you know that you have a huge ZIT on your nose?”  What if he had instead decided to clear up what he thought was a potentially dangerous WAX buildup in my ears while my contractions just got worse and worse?

I think I would have objected to that.

And yet, I get distracted all the time by so many things. We all do. What people look like. What they say on Twitter. What their expectations are of us. How we can feel better, and forget what is making us sad, as fast as possible.

And then I remember, these are not the problem. How I can escape the pain of regret or avoid feeling fear about my future or not think about how someone hurt me is not actually my biggest problem. These are symptoms of the problem. The problem is that I am broken; that I am lonely and in need of help. The problem is me. And the answer comes in the form of those who come alongside me at precisely these moments; those who bring light and hope and truth to my dark heart and mind.

Another author once said; “There is a certain “niceness” to a friendship where I can be, as they say, myself.

But what I really need are relationships in which I will be encouraged to become better than myself.”

Myself needs to grow a little each day. I don’t want to be the myself I was yesterday. I want to be the myself that is developing each day to be more who I was created to be.

I’m grateful for those around me who have entered into my conflict at various times and helped me focus on the real fight. If you are feeling a need for some reinforcements in your own battle, let me know and I’ll hook you up. For now, walk on. Lead your life. Known and not alone.