It Never Gets Old

This morning I got a free ultrasound.  Our health insurance canceled at the end of May, and even though I was blessed to get an ultrasound at 10 weeks and all was well, I knew I would want something closer to the end of the first trimester.  My nerves needed it.  I also knew I would need some time to get health coverage and to find a doctor in Tennessee once we were moved.  Being the cheap resourceful girl that I am, I searched the internet for a place where I could go and get a little discounted peace of mind.  And I found it.  For free.

I found a local pregnancy center that has a mobile sonogram unit that parks itself in convenient locations all around Dallas.  They offer free pregnancy testing to the community at large and free sonograms to those with positive pregnancy tests.  I called and explained my situation.  The woman on the other end of the line say that I should come on in.  And this morning, I did.

I was nervous.  I have had my share my scary pregnancy dreams, and last night I had another one.  From what I hear, they are common for those of us who have experienced loss, and while I know they have nothing to do with my reality, they are nerve racking.  So this morning we drove over, and I had Jake pray with me before I went in.  They asked to speak with me alone first.  The woman who answered the door was slightly intimidating, letting me know right off the bat that they would not be looking for birth defects or abnormalities, if that's what I was after.  They would only be looking for an approximate due date and a heartbeat.  A heartbeat was what I wanted to hear, so I assured her that was fine.

Once inside with my paperwork, I took a pregnancy test, and I sat and waited with the counselor while the nurse confirmed that I was indeed pregnant.  The counselor talked with me for a minute, and even after hearing a very condensed version of my life story and knowing that I professed to be a Christian, she asked if she could share the gospel with me, just to be sure.  I said yes.  And I have to tell you that for the next few minutes, I just cried.  Now granted, I am hormonal these days, but it has been a long time since someone has shared the gospel with me one-on-one just because they thought I might need to hear it.   As she read through the familiar verses from Romans, and I nodded my head in agreement, I remembered that this story that she was telling was the thing that every part of my life is based upon.

Because of this simple story, I have relationship with God.  I have God's Word that gives me the ability to fight against fear and anxiety.  I have comfort in knowing I will one day see the child that I lost.  I have forgiveness of sin and hope of heaven.  I don't have to fear death.  I have confidence that my Father is ordering my steps.  I have faith in His provision.  I know that my life has meaning and purpose.  I can obey Him, even when it is scary, knowing that He has my best in mind.  All of these things I have because of the gospel.  And it was lovely to hear it again.  The story doesn't get old.  The truth of it still impacts me, even 30 years after I accepted it.

Afterward, the counselor held my hand and prayed with me.  She prayed for this little life that God has given to us.  She reminded me that God knew what it was like to lose a child in death, and she assured me that no one would ever love me like He does.  And she was right.  I know it.  I believe it.  But it was so good to hear it again.  It just never gets old.

Romans 5:8 But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  

Who do you know that needs to hear the gospel today?  

In case you wonder, the ultrasound was beautiful and wonderful.  We saw a perfect little baby and heard an excellent heartbeat.  Baby clearly has large hands like his (her?) father and likes to nap like his mother.  We love him already.