Talking with my sister today, I happened to stumble across a truth that has given me a lot of peace. This past year has taught me a lot about humbling myself and asking for help when I need it. I felt like with all this pelvic pain blah blah that it was another test (if you want to call it that) to trust God by asking for help. I believed that if I just admitted I couldn't do it, asked the doctor to bump up my c-section date... that He would help me by allowing me to duck and run with this thing. I believed it. That is why I was so completely devastated by the answer of no. I felt like I missed something. Changing my mind, realigning it with the truth of the matter... instead of lining it up so that the doctor could help me, it is my family--once again-- that is stepping in to help me. Does that mean God left me hanging? No. I'm not left hanging. I'm fully supported. Does that mean it was my family and not God that is helping? Absolutely not. Who do you think put me in this family to begin with?
The answer to my prayer might not have been the exact way I was expecting. However, it is an answer. It is clear. I am not good with vague answers. God is good. I have realigned my will with the truth of God's promises. I still want this freakin' baby out of my freakin' body so freakin' bad... but I have been given yet one more opportunity to realize that it is not the ease of the road that dictates where I travel, but rather putting my head down and putting one foot in front of the other in obedience to God. Patience. Joy. Contentment. And... some more patience. And juuuust a bit more patience.