When we moved from North Carolina to Virginia, we left a church there that had become, in one short year, a true family. On our last Sunday they threw us a goodbye party that ended with prayer. After we prayed, one of my good friends, Jennifer Cox, gave us a message. She had seen a picture in her mind of Andrew and I sitting at a table with a big photo album in front of us. We were turning the pages backward and looking over our past together. She said that we should always look back and remember how God had been faithful to us through all our years. At the time I was thinking, of course, of the challenges of medical school. I was pretty much scared stiff about what lay ahead, especially after hearing things like, "get ready to be a single mom."

I have not always been good at looking back, and I have been extremely discouraged through most of this pregnancy. I have even gone back to the question that seems to haunt my life: I know that God loves me, but what if His love only means a life of painful "lessons" designed only to make me "good?" That idea has never been enough for me. Lately, when looking back, I have only seen the pain that I have been through, and the future has looked black with possibilities of pain of the worst kind. If I had written a list of the worst case scenarios, it seemed like God was going down that list and checking them off one by one.

As always, my view of my life hinges on my view of who God is, and if I couldn't believe in His true goodness, if I could only see Him as an overly-authoritarian father-figure who is going to "keep me in line," how could I have hope?

Then I read Psalm 91. I have read it many times before, and even spent a week memorizing it during youth camp one summer with a good friend, but it somehow didn't seem relevant right now.  I don't even know why I read it.

I came to the verse that says, "A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you." This didn't make any sense at first - it seemed like the battle was very near me, and about to destroy me. But I started looking back again and seeing that, though in many cases my worst fears were realized, God, in His compassion, had so eased the difficulty, that really only my fear had hurt me. My husband was sent to war. Definitely a worst fear. But he was back within three months, unharmed. Medical school so far has not resembled single-parenthood in any way. And there are so many others things that have not been what they could have been.

So, as we get close to Cody's birth in just a few days, I am much more excited than fearful or anxious. God has promised me that "it will not come near" me, and His promises are always true. I don't know how that will work, but I believe that this will not be the worst case. From a medical perspective, there is a chance that Cody won't survive even one hour. I don't know that this won't be the case, but I don't believe it will be. I believe that God has given us a beautiful son who, whatever else may happen, will know how to love and be loved.

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
Will  rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress,
My God in whom I trust.'

Surely He will save you from the fowler's snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with His feathers,
and under His wings you will find refuge;
His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.

If you make the Most High your dwelling--
Even the Lord, who is my refuge--
then no harm will befall you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
For He will command His angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread upon the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

'Because he loves me,'  says the Lord, 'I will rescue him.
I will protect him because he acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble.
I will deliver him and honor him.
With long life will I satisfy him
and show him my salvation.' "

Psalm 91