Miracles, Prayers and an update on Fred

Does anyone remember Fred? The story was told more than a year ago, so if you’ve no time to read the link (which is actually something I read from time to time in an attempt to amuse myself), I shall summarize. I met a man online, had a date with him, was overwhelmed by his desperation to obtain a wife, didn’t see him again, but kept in sporadic touch via email. I sent books to him on his first tour in Iraq. I ordered a wedding gift from amazon when he – on his third engagement – obtained the wife he so desired.

The couple has, in the few years that have passed, been trying to have a child. Fred’s utmost desire is to be useful. He wanted to be a solider and joined the army. Doggedly patriotic, he serves to the best of his ability. In his last email, he reported that he was part of the team that unloaded pieces of helicopter wreckage from a vehicle and the sense of loss of his fellow soldiers as well as the enormity of the danger that exists was difficult for him. It’s the first time he’s voiced a word of unhappiness or fear to me.

Fred mostly sends forwards urging action against people or companies who aren’t completely conservative and “Godly.” Since my interpretation of faith differs from his own, I generally delete them, more than happy to drink Pepsi whether or not they put “Under God” on their special cans, refusing to sign some petition in support of our President. I do look at the pictures he forwards to a group of friends – I know not who the others are, nor do I particularly care. It is more out of lingering curiosity that I sometimes answer his emails. His outlook is so different than my own that I continue to wonder how life is for him. He always looks happy – whether on a retreat with his wife or decorating their new home on base or standing next to some impressive piece of military equipment. A broad smile creases his round face and reveals crooked teeth. And I find myself smiling too, pleased that he's so happy.

His bride, conversely, looks sullen. A large woman with various medical problems, she had surgery the week after they married to correct some ailment. Perhaps she loves him – I very much hope so since he clearly dotes on her. I also hope she’s happy, though I was a bit offended that when I asked for their address to send a wedding gift, she asked him to send multiple emails inquiring over when it would arrive. I decided that she wanted to be home when the package came and happily sent along tracking information. I successfully fought my impulse to send email asking after the thank you card I never received. It seemed catty. Mentioning it on my blog is clearly the way to go.

The cause of my answering his most recent forward was that his wife had – after more than a year of trying and with medical assistance (of what type I’m not sure) – become pregnant. I reminded myself to send a gift as her due date approached sometime in February, and offered a prayer that she would be well when Fred left for Iraq again. They’ve tried so hard for so long and he wants a child so much, but has remained completely confident that they will have one. After each failed attempt in the past, he sent reports that they were struggling, but continued to try.

God will provide.

I smiled when she successfully conceived about 2 months ago. Fred was thrilled, lamenting that he’d be abroad when she grew heavy with child, but eager to meet his offspring when he returned. His last email reported that his wife, at her first ultrasound, was told the baby’s heartbeat could not be found. Her doctors attempted to schedule a DNC which she firmly refused. The baby was a miracle from God and she would allow it all the time it needed to grow. Fred embraced this attitude, deeply saddened he was not with her, but profoundly proud that she believed a miracle would occur.

He wrote to ask for prayers for their child. That his wife would hear the heartbeat when she returns to the office for another ultrasound tomorrow. That her doctors would not insist on a DNC when one couldn’t be found. They want God to save their precious child, and Fred continues to speak to her belly on speakerphone when he calls from overseas. He tells the baby how hard they worked to create him/her. How long they’ve waited and how much they want this. How the baby should grow and become strong.

But, I thought, reading his words, the baby is gone. Doctors would not have suggested the procedure if they thought there was hope. And so I prayed for comfort and strength. I find I can’t ask for a miracle. I’m terribly sorry, which is what I wrote, and I know how badly he wanted to grow their family. He replied that they were firm in their belief that the baby would be healthy and wonderful. Again requested prayers for a good result tomorrow. And sent me hugs as his sister in Christ.

I keep puzzling over it. Because in my mind, the baby is gone. And it’s sad and awful and I hate that it happened to this couple. But it did. There will not be a heartbeat tomorrow and so I cannot ask God to provide one.

So is it that I don’t believe in miracles? I certainly think God could provide them and has done so in the past. I know He listens when we pray and guides us as much as we allow. I also know there is a limit to my understanding and that sometimes there are terrible events and circumstances. I don’t think it’s punishment or even necessarily a lesson. It just sucks sometimes and it’s beyond me to truly comprehend it, though I’m aware of theories that provide at least some satisfaction.

Given that I believe God can provide a miracle – even a heartbeat at a sonogram tomorrow – I also believe He won’t. I’m not sure why. Because there are people and things I wanted desperately – to the point of aching at the very thought of losing them – that I have been denied? Because I’m exposed at work to suffering via both disease and treatment? Because I loved someone and believed and hoped and let myself think that I’d be able to start my own family, only to see that I never had that particular man in any substantial way and that any fantasies of happily ever after were just that?

It was after that point that I reminded myself that “Your will be done.” Isn’t just a line in a prayer. Expecting that if God loves you, His plans will align with your own desires strikes me as immature. Wanting something doesn’t make it right – be it a job or relationship or publication or new car. And though a baby is – to me – a whole other level of utmost importance, sometimes terrible things happen. And wanting something – even something you think is good and right and wonderful – plus believing in God does not necessarily equal one getting what one wants or even deserves. I don’t know why. But I do see that as being true.

I want desperately to get married. I don’t see it happening though, so I feel rather silly whining about it. I’m lonely though, miss feeling affectionate toward someone, long for flirtation and smiles when I think of someone I hope is thinking of me.

“You’ll get married.” Dr. Counselor said many times when I was still seeing him. “God didn’t put that desire in your heart to deny it.”

I shook my head at him each time. “You don’t know that.” I’d reply. “People want all sorts of things that – if obtained – would be bad for them. I might have other things to do here. And though I wish you were right – that my longing for a partner means I get to have one – I think that’s a rather foolish way of thinking. Plus, if one says, “God made me want this, and won’t let me have it.” then how does one not get angry with God? Frustrated and withdrawn and sulky? And that’s not good. It seems there should be trust – faith – and trying to predict His will is a good way to mess that up.”

He would frown and nod, then brighten. “Well,” he’d decide, “let’s say that until we know differently, God wants you to find someone and get married.” And when I think of those moments, I’m glad I don’t see him anymore. Dr. Counselor could be one frustrating, little creature himself. Though likely right about my decent into pessimism.

I guess I don’t know if I’m envious of Fred’s faith or think him a fool. Probably more the latter. But I do wish – just a little – that when things look darkest, I was able to know that God loved me enough to provide something that was attributable to no one but Him. That He would reach and shift reality just for me.

But I try to keep my requests reasonable. Please help Mom not be so sick. Please be with us as she gains her strength. Guide me as I’m figuring out where to go from here, and please demand my attention when I forget to give it freely. I’d like You to bless my church, for those people have given me a warm, safe place to worship and a Pastor who I love. Please provide comfort and peace to my patients and those I see in the hallways. Give them rest and energy in the appropriate proportions and lead them to people who will listen and help. Watch over those of us in danger – regardless of what form that might take. I’d like someone to love, but You know that...

I do not think the universe is evil. Nor do I think it is particularly kind. People help each other, but can also be inexplicably cruel. I choose to recognize the duality – that to gasp with joy sometimes means that other moments will find me sobbing in despair. And so I didn’t respond to Fred’s last email, not wanting to do a single thing to change his hope, but not able to participate in it. It hurts too badly to be disappointed, I think. I prefer to be realistic and practical, but I sometimes miss the moments when I was brave enough to ask for miracles and expect that my friends would offer similar requests on my behalf.

I pray that God is with Fred and his wife tomorrow. That much, at least, I can do with all sincerity.