For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his pinions,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
You will not fear the terror of the night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.
Psalm 91: 3-6
Eight days after my daughter’s birth, I came home from the hospital, tired and weak. Life took on a pattern as I adapted to the new little person in our lives. I slept a lot while recovering from my illness, but I was home.
Less than a week later, I began to ache like I had the flu. I called the doctor and he suggested I stop breast-feeding. Yes, through all of my illness, I had attempted to keep this option alive. Now, it was dead in the water.
Within twenty-four hours, I could barely move. Turning over in the bed was impossible, the pain so excruciating. I managed to convince my husband to get up and feed the baby in the middle of the night, but as dawn approached he refused to respond to her cries saying, “I already did it once.” As if a two-week-old baby only eats a couple of times a day.
Fighting tears of pain and frustration, I forced my body to respond through the agony of movement and prepared to feed her. I remember sitting on the couch crying from the pain of trying to hold the baby and the bottle. I can’t begin to tell you how much it hurt, but it was as if my muscles had crystallized and couldn’t move. Yet, I forced them to. My daughter needed to eat.
I’ll never forget the relief I felt when my in-laws showed up during this feeding. His mother took one look at me and stepped in. While she fussed at her son to get up, I crawled back into the bed.
By the next day, I had called the OB doctor and had an appointment for the late morning. My mother came to take me. I tried to wake my husband, so he would know he needed to take care of the baby, but he refused to respond. I told my mother we should bring the baby with us. My mom said to not worry. When the baby cried, he would get up. We drove away, my heart torn with worry.
The OB couldn’t determine what was wrong, so the next day I went to my family doctor. He tested everything and discovered my Sed (sedimentation) rate was abnormally high. He took one look at me and my mother (we had left my husband with the baby again) and ordered me to take the baby and stay with my mom where I could get the help and rest I needed.
What a relief. As the psalmist says in the verses above, God gave me refuge. My husband hated it and refused to stay with us, but he didn’t stop me from going. I truly believe God worked in this circumstance, sheltering me with His wings. As my husband would prove many times during our marriage, he could have objected strongly, creating a horrific situation. Thankfully, for all involved, he kept his mouth shut for a while.
I had the peace I needed to recover.
When has God sheltered you with His wings and protected you from pestilence?