CHAPTER 4: DEVASTATION & DETERMINATION

I was devastated. I was utterly crushed and heartbroken. I curled up like an infant on my floor and cried the deepest cries I have ever known. I cried from an eternal place, a place that reached out from this temporary home to where my baby was. I knew that she was there, but I couldn’t touch her. I never got to touch her…

And yet... I did touch her. In my dream, I had held that tiny little embryo in my hand. I had hated that early November dream with a passion. But now, strangely, it was such a comfort to me. That dream had been my visitation. It had been my viewing. It had been my memorial service.  

Before I ever even knew she existed, I had held her. And I had said goodbye...

Still, I didn’t understand. 
Why the promise? 
Why all of the dreams? 
Why Psalm 144? 
Why this loss?

Without even realizing that this was the first week of advent, the week of hope, I felt compelled to name this tiny little wisp of a child. The name HOPE was ringing in my spirit, because despite the excruciating loss I felt, she gave me HOPE. I had HOPE that I would see her again in heaven. And I had HOPE that I could still conceive. I had HOPE that I could still receive the promise here on earth!

The Advent Candle of HOPE

Laura, gave me this precious HOPE Angel as a remembrance of our beloved child. This is what I clung to as I went through the stages of grief. We had only known about our Hope for such a short time, and yet she changed us forever. 

My HOPE Angel

How significant, how sacred life is, no matter how young, no matter how small. Every life has meaning. Every life has value. Every life has impact.

In the days and weeks that followed Hope’s passing, the Lord kept reminding me of Psalm 144,

“Praise be to the Lord my Rock who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle…”

I felt the Lord saying so clearly to my spirit, 

“Yes! Yes, I have promised you this child, my daughter, but she won’t be like the others. You must fight for her! You must go to battle for her!”

I knew that if we were to have this promised child, I was going to have to fight for her. I was going to have to fight like I had never fought for anything before in my life. 

On December 1^st, 2015, I had this significant dream.

I was traveling through Iraq and Iran, the most war-torn nations on the face of the earth. I was standing outside a 3-story enemy compound. The windows were dark and I knew that the enemy was aiming straight at me. I was out in the open, completely vulnerable to attack. But beside me was a large picnic table. Suddenly, a compartment opened up beneath the table top and I hid inside until the immediate threat was gone. Then the compartment opened again and I climbed out and stood beside the table. (December 1, 2015)

When I woke, I immediately thought of Psalm 23:5-6, 

"You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies."

The enemy had attacked me in the most brutal way, he had stolen the most precious thing from me and I was devastated. But as I pressed into the Lord in my grieving, this DEVASTATION was giving way to a newfound DETERMINATION. These diametrically opposed states of being are two sides of the same coin, if we will allow God to flip it from one side to the other.

I thought of the empty table in my dream and I told the enemy that one day, he would watch me eat a feast on that table. He would!

So in the midst of my heartache and gut-wrenching pain, I became determined. I mobilized. I gathered 6 pages of Scriptures containing God’s promises. Promises that He would increase our numbers. Promises of a full quiver. Promises of divine health and that I would not miscarry. Promises of God’s faithfulness. Promises of God’s character. Promises of HOPE, of reaping a harvest if I would not lose FAITH… (Galatians 6:9) I made a pamphlet out of these Scripture, and I took it with me everywhere I went. 

INSERT PIC OF SCRIPTURE PAMPHLET

On the back, I put a picture of the enemy compound that I had seen in my dream and the picnic table where the Lord hid me. I'm not much of an artist, but I wanted to look at the image of my dream every day, and declare victory over my enemy!

INSERT PIC OF BACK OF PAMPHLET

Bryan and I began praying these Scriptures over my body every single day, without fail. 

And I thought of the women from my Bible Study, the women who were surrounding me in Laura’s dream as I was 7 to 8 months pregnant. God would not have given Laura that dream if He had not intended to fulfill it. He wouldn’t grant the promise and then snatch it away. That would be cruel, and God is not cruel. God had given Laura that dream so I would not lose HOPE in my darkest hour. Those women, who were my spiritual sisters, would walk me through this journey and surround me in prayer.

And God conceived another dream in me… He conceived all the hopes and dreams of these women in me. I knew these sweet sisters so well. I knew the promises they had been waiting for. I knew their loss. I knew their barren and broken places, all the places where they were, like me, trying to muster hope to believe. So I created a list of all the things we were praying for and we covenanted to join together in prayer to see every last promise fulfilled. We pledged to pray for each other every single day for our promises to come.

CHAPTER 3: DREAMS & DELAYS

I’ve been a dreamer since I was a very young child. Just like the Josephs of both the Old and New Testament, as well as many saints throughout Scripture and history, God has spoken to me in the late-night hours. In 2015, God began speaking to me about the journey that I was going to take back to motherhood one last time, a journey to receive our 5th child. And He often spoke in my dreams.  

On January 21^st, 2015, I had this very significant dream: 

I was late for a flight that left at 5 o’clock, and I had missed a flight the day before. I didn’t think that I could make it to the airport in time. Bryan and all the kids raced with me to the airport. We arrived at exactly 5 p.m. I tore across the terminals hoping to make it to the gate on time. The dream was very specific: I was leaving from Jackson, Mississippi, and I was flying to Santa Fe, New Mexico... (cont.) 

Now, I’ve never even desired to go to these cities, much less actually been to them, but their names were very compelling. Jackson means, “God has been gracious and has shown favor.” Throughout Scripture, women who are with child are said to be blessed with God's favor. And Santa Fe means “holy faith.” 

I thought, “It will certainly take a holy faith to do this again at my age!” 

I had no idea how much faith. After all, in the dream I had missed a flight the day before. I had missed a flight…

When I finally arrived at the ticket counter, I was anxious to see if I could still make it onto the plane. I hadn’t left yet, so there was hope! The attendant was very friendly. He said, “Oh, you have to go to Los Angeles on your trip!” I thought, “Ok. Sounds good to me.” (January 21, 2015)

Of course, the number 5 jumped out at me like a flashing neon sign in this dream. And an airplane signifies a major move of God in someone's life, something that you cannot accomplish in your own strength. 

The dream ended with me waiting to see if I could get on the plane. I didn’t know if I could. After all, it was so late… I was so old. But the attendant seemed hopeful, and he had also mentioned the city of Los Angeles. 

As I pondered this destination, where I also have never been or particularly wanted to go, I realized that L.A. is the city of Angels. This gave me yet another reason to hope! I had already chosen my daughter’s first name… 

I had picked this name long ago, while I was still pregnant with Weston (just in case). Evangeline means “Good News.” And that is what angels bring… GOOD NEWS. 

"But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you GOOD NEWS that will cause great joy for all the people." (Luke 2:10)

I was so encouraged. I was waiting for my GOOD NEWS to come, my Evangeline! I knew what this dream meant... This dream symbolized a final trip back to motherhood, a trip to obtain our 5th child!

But was it even possible? Could this happen again, at my age?

On February 24^th, 2015, I had another very significant dream. In this dream, Bryan and I were staying in a Bed & Breakfast in Virginia Beach, VA. (Virginia Beach is where Bryan and I started our journey to parenthood, and I was now having many dreams about us coming full circle, back to where we started.) 

In the dream,

Bryan and I were celebrating our Anniversary, which is March 18^th. I went out for some exercise. I was carrying a large, infant baby girl in my arms as I ran through the streets. Suddenly, the weather turned threatening and the main boulevard was flooding as I made my way back to the bed and breakfast, holding on to this baby with all my strength. But I was not afraid. I was confident that we would be ok, even as the muddy floodwaters rose above my waist. I did get back to the B&B safely with the baby girl, but some of that muddy water managed to get into my ear… (February 24, 2015)

I was so excited to dream about this little girl, who I had been praying for so fervently, that I failed to note all of the obstacles. I was only reminded of them much, much later. 

"Surely this little girl must be coming soon!" I thought. It was almost our anniversary!

But our anniversary came and went... and I was not with child. Month after month after month went by, and nothing happened. As the year slipped from winter to spring to summer and finally fall, and the time frame I had given God to do this work passed, I questioned what I had heard. I must have been wrong. I was old and things weren’t working the way they used to. Obviously I had been mistaken. I must have been mistaken.

But in November of 2015, everything changed. EVERYTHING. I had a dream that disturbed me to my very core, and I didn’t tell a soul. I didn’t even write it down, and I’ve recorded all of my important dreams for years. Speaking it somehow made it seem more real, and I didn't want it to be real.

In my dream, 

Bryan and I were sitting it a doctor's office that was bathed in white. I looked down and in my hand was a teeny, tiny embryo. She was magnified so I could see her clearly. I saw the child only for a moment. Then I woke. (November, 2015)

I hated the dream! I didn’t understand it. My only thought was, 

“A child that small cannot be alive in my hands.”

A couple of weeks went by, but the dream still lingered in the back of my mind. On Monday, November 16th, I woke up and the Lord impressed upon my heart Psalm 144. I had no idea what this Psalm said. I turned there in my Bible and the first two verses jumped out at me.

“Praise be to the Lord my rock who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle. He is my loving God and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield in whom I take refuge, who subdues people under me.” (Psalm 144:1-2)

Great. Wars and battles. Ok. Happy Monday to me!

On Monday nights, I co-lead a women's Bible Study called NOWword at my church with my pastor, Laura Harris Smith. Laura has been a tremendous mentor and the dearest of friends to me these past few years. She is a published poet and has authored many books. Her book, Seeing the Voice of God: What God is Telling You Through Dreams and Visions, is an Amazon best seller and has helped many people to understand God's prophetic voice. 

For me, this book has simply been life-changing. I always knew that God was speaking to me in my dreams, but I often did not understand what He was saying. And though I was raised in the church, this topic was never mentioned. Obviously God spoke in these supernatural ways throughout Scripture, but no one talked as if He still communicated that way today. At least no one I knew. 

And yet... my dreams were so vibrant, so real, and often so prophetic that I could not deny God's clear voice speaking through them. Laura opened my eyes to the symbolic meaning of God's supernatural voice. He is constantly speaking to His children... even in our dreams. Especially in our dreams.

                           Laura & Me 2015

That Monday night after attending our Bible study, Laura was bursting with excitement. She could hardly wait to tell me something. She exclaimed,

“Catherine! I had a dream of you in our NOWword circle and you were 7 to 8 months pregnant!!!”

Laura had a very similar dream about me in the spring of 2013, before I got pregnant with our 4th child. Actually, she had that dream before I was ever even willing to be pregnant with our 4th child. In her dream, she saw me standing in our church lobby and I was 7 to 8 months pregnant. Now, at that time, having another baby was the furthest thing from my mind. God had not yet asked me those probing questions about my family. And I had not yet surrendered my future and my womb. So I laughed and said,  

"Laura, That must not be a literal child. We are done having children!"  

And yet Laura's dream was about a literal child. Here I am 7 months pregnant with our 4th child in our church lobby, just as her dream foretold.

August, 2014, 7 months pregnant with our 4th child, Weston

(Eastgate Creative Christian Fellowship, Donelson, TN).

This new dream of Laura's should have stirred more faith in me than it did. But when my expectations and timeline were not met for our 5th child, my faith wavered. So instead of receiving the word in faith, I laughed (again) and said,

"Oh Laura, I'm so old! I don't think that your dream is about a literal child. I thought that we were supposed to have another baby, but I'll soon be 45 and I just don't think that is going to happen anymore." 

I have since learned that God doesn't look at age the same way we do. Age is not an OBSTACLE to Him. It is an OPPORTUNITY.

Two days later, the Lord told me to go back to Psalm 144. I reread the call to battle, 

"Praise be to the Lord my Rock, who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle..." (Psalm 144:1)

...with no indication of what it could mean.

That night, we had some missionaries visiting our church from Israel. They sang an entirely original worship set. My jaw hit the floor when they began singing... 

“Praise be to the Lord my rock, who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle…” (Psalm 144:1)

I had never heard this Psalm before, or at least I had never taken note of it. Now, suddenly, here it was again. THREE TIMES IN ONE WEEK! God was obviously speaking to me.

“Ok, God,” I said, “You’ve got my attention. This isn’t exactly a verse that songwriters put into a Western worship song. I can’t imagine Hillsong being inspired by this section of Scripture. No, this is the kind of verse that goes into a song written in the most war-torn nation on the face of the earth. I mean, seriously. You brought missionaries all the way from Israel to confirm this verse to me!”

It must mean something big. But what did it mean?

Two days later, I found out. Two tests revealed that I was… PREGNANT.

I was in shock. Complete and utter shock. I had truly believed that we would have another child, but somewhere along the line, I stopped believing. And I stopped praying. I became satisfied without the promise...

I immediately called Laura and the first words out of my mouth weren’t exactly filled with faith. Before even telling her the news, I bemoaned, 

“Oh, Laura… I’m so old. I’M SOOOOOO OLD!” 

I had too many miles on me for another trip to motherhood, or so I thought. But Laura and I prayed, and I remembered all the words God had given me. I remembered the hope. I remembered the dreams. And I was soon overjoyed, as was Bryan. We were thrilled, over the moon excited with our news! Another little Segars was coming into the world. This was our promise. My little girl was here! She was finally here! She had come later than I had hoped, but she was really here!!!

Then one week later, on Thanksgiving day 2015, I had another very strange dream. In the dream...

I had ordered some baby items in the mail and they had arrived, but they were all broken. Every one of them was broken. I didn’t want to pay full price for the things I had ordered, but I had to anyways. (November 26, 2015)

I shuddered, remembering the dream about the tiny embryo.

That evening, the meaning of both these dreams became painfully clear. Right before our Thanksgiving dinner, I began to bleed. I was terrified. I had never bled before, not in any of my other pregnancies. We had planned to tell our parents about Segars #5 at Christmas with our first sonogram pictures. We weren't going to tell them yet. But I could not smile and pretend that everything was ok during our Thanksgiving feast. I told everyone gathered around our bountiful table that we were expecting our 5th child, and that I was bleeding. They all began to pray. My father kept saying, 

“We must have faith. We must have FAITH!”

But as the night progressed, I kept bleeding, more and more. And more.

That night, Thanksgiving night, 2015, I lost our baby, our tiny little embryo, just like my dreams foretold. I missed the flight. I lost our promised child, our broken baby. And I had to pay the full price of knowing.

                              Thanksgiving 2015. My face says it all.