How to have Faith in the Middle of the Story

In the beginning of February 2020, I went in for a final ultrasound to make sure my fourth baby was growing as expected and ready for delivery. Alice was 11 months off treatment for her cancer and had finally been approved to start school in January. She was enjoying being a “normal” kindergartener, and we were all excited to become a family of six.

Once the ultrasound was completed I met my midwife in a private exam room. She came in, closed the door, and sat down with a serious look on her face. She told me they had found a mass in the baby’s abdomen and I needed to go see a specialist as soon as possible.

Part of me wanted to laugh at her. Surely this was a joke. God wouldn’t do this to us. Another mass? In another of my precious children? Were we about to begin a second round of pediatric cancer with our young family?

Little Lydia was born at the end of February 2020, and her medical journey began. As the whole world shut down our family ramped up. Not only were we dealing with all the (good but hard) upheaval a newborn brings, but now we were trying to navigate medical appointments for two children in a climate when everything was cloaked with a layer of fear.

For the past three years we’ve been on a rollercoaster with Lydia and we aren’t finished yet. I keep wanting God to wrap up this chapter with a neat bow so that I can craft an encouraging post for you and share all the ways he has answered our prayers.

But we are still in the middle of her story.

I take Lydia in for another exam next week – it will be her 9th ultrasound. From there we will plan surgery, meet with the oncologist, discuss the biopsy, and walk down whatever road is before us. The doctors are optimistic her mass is benign, and yet they can’t give us a road map until surgery is completed. 

And so… perhaps there is value in writing about faith in the middle. Not the naïve faith of believing it’ll all work out the way we want. Nor the defeated faith of assuming God is going to do whatever he wants anyway so why worry about it. But that messy faith where we weave in and out of hope and uncertainty, and have to cling all the harder to what we know is true.

I imagine an Israelite mom in the days of wandering the desert and eating manna off the ground. She didn’t know what each day would bring. She couldn’t even meal plan, let alone predict the future for her children. Each day she simply had to wake up and trust that God would put in front of her exactly what she needed for that day.

And God was faithful to her.

In the evening quail came up and covered the camp, and in the morning dew lay around the camp. And when the dew had gone up, there was on the face of the wilderness a fine, flake-like thing, fine as frost on the ground.

Exodus 16:13-14

If that Israelite mom tried to take matters into her own hands and control the future, she literally couldn’t survive. The food she tried to horde for her children would spoil, leading to illness.

And Moses said to them, “Let no one leave any of it over till the morning.” But they did not listen to Moses. Some left part of it till the morning, and it bred worms and stank.

Exodus 16:19-20a

So day after day she had to choose where to turn her eyes. Would she anxiously look ahead and allow her fear to control her? Or would she look both behind her at the faithful track record of God, and at the ground under her feet and see the moment by moment ways God was caring for her?

So too, in the middle of our stories we have faith by trusting that each day God will provide what we need. Only the Lord knows the phone calls we will receive, the news we will hear, the pain we will experience. Only he knows how much endurance, patience, boldness, peace, strength, and faith we will need to make it through each day.

Remember my affliction and my wanderings,
    the wormwood and the gall!
My soul continually remembers it
    and is bowed down within me.
But this I call to mind,
    and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
    “therefore I will hope in him.”

Lamentations 3:19-24

Each morning I get to call to mind the steadfast love of the Lord. Each day God blankets me with his mercy and faithfulness. The Lord is as much my portion today as that manna was the necessary portion for the Israelite mom.

So how do I have faith in the middle of this story? I remember how God has faithfully cared for us in the past, and how he is with us every second of today. God is not the lord of my imaginings, because those fears are not reality. Everything about God is real and true, and so I focus my mind on what is real as well.

What is real for me today? I am attached to the true vine. I am abiding in Jesus and he is abiding in me. The Holy Spirit is with me every second, interceding, counseling, and helping me. God the Father is sovereign over all so that not even a hair can fall off my daughter’s head without his explicit permission. As I type this my girls are tucked into their beds snuggling their favorite blankets. My husband is prepping the coffee so it’ll be hot and ready when our alarms go off in the morning.

Those things are real. And those things are what allow me to walk through each day. If something different becomes real tomorrow, then I will walk in that trusting the manna, the mercy, and the strength of my Savior.

I don’t know the end of her story yet. But I do know the author of her story. And he has always proven faithful.