The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters, He restores my soul.

Psalm 23:1-3

Time to be vulnerable for a minute. Vulnerability always comes with its own risks, but for the possibility of my own experience potentially encouraging someone else, it’s worth it. I’m posting this because life happens, and people go through stuff. And without somebody stepping out and being vulnerable, the internet is a magazine of imaginary lives, a collection of moments that makes everyone else look like they have it all together– and the hurting one who scrolls through it feels like they’re the only one who doesn’t. We need each other. So post your stories. Your real stories. You never know who else out there can relate way more than you think, and desperately needs a different point of view on how to cope.

A few weeks ago, while visiting my parents in Chicago, I landed in the ER with a threatened miscarriage. After a few tests they said the baby was okay, but they weren’t sure for how long. They couldn’t come up with a definitive reason why it happened to start with, or how to stop it from progressing. Not knowing if I’d lose the baby or not, they told me I couldn’t leave Illinois until it was over. I was there for a week, basically confined to my parents’ house and a wheelchair when going out. My husband had to fly up to drive me the seven hours back home, because I couldn’t travel alone. We’re so thankful for the prayers that were sent on our behalf, the help that was given to us by family and friends, and of course we’re grateful to God that our baby is okay.

But we’re not out of the woods, which is why this week I was given the other answer I didn’t want to hear:

I can’t go back to work until after maternity leave.

Six months. Six whole months away from the job I love, on disability with limited income, trying to make ends meet, with a baby on the way. The only way this will not be my reality is if somehow my employer is able to find me light duty work, a temporary job with less physical responsibilities– but that prospect hasn’t been looking good and from what I’ve been told, it’s a month-to-month solution at best. To say this all has been a stressful few weeks doesn’t begin to cover it. The word “devastating” is more like it. I won’t pretend I haven’t freaked out a little over all this…my brain does not like any of it one bit (not to mention it’s only been a few days since learning I can’t go back to work, and already the cabin fever is REAL).

Have you ever looked at what you could see of your own future and just said, “How?”

I’m a chronic problem solver and there are some seasons in life that just leave me totally incapacitated, absolutely unable to figure out how anything is gonna turn out. This is one of those seasons.

But that’s the part that’s encouraging, actually. Because I’ve noticed in the past, it’s been the times when all the rationale in my whole human brain can’t put the pieces together on how things are gonna work out, that God really shows up and shows out. It’s almost like sometimes He has to get us to the point of realizing we are totally NOT in control of a situation, for us to understand how completely in control He is– and that what happens when He’s in control is so much better than what we can achieve on our own.

A few nights ago, a verse came to mind that gave me total peace: Psalm 23. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” In other words: The Lord is in control, I have all I need.

Even when all I have is 50% of my income, bills to pay, and a baby on the way, I have all I need.

Even when all I have is a blank calendar of the next 6 months and no idea what comes next, I have all I need.

Even when all I have is …(fill in the blank)… I have all I need.

It’s easy to get so focused on what we don’t have that we totally forget what we do have, and then we trick ourselves into worrying that what we have is not enough. Anxiously and obsessively we try to obtain what we think we need, endlessly sapping ourselves of energy and joy– all because we don’t even recognize how blessed and taken care of we are.

I may not have work to do that makes me feel like I have a purpose, but I have a God who does good things in me and for me that I don’t even realize. I may not have anything to do at home for the foreseeable future, but I have a roof over my head. I may not have luxuries, but I have food on my table, gas in my car, and electricity. I may not have any idea if I’ll even have the money for all those things in the months to come, but I have nothing to fear.

I may not know what the future holds, but I have the One who holds the future.

I have all I need. ☸