Aunt Anita smiles and says: "Let's go see some Christmas lights. I'll ride with you." We climb into my red, 4x4 Ford F-150 and drive onto gravel and into dusk. I struggle in keeping my truck on the road; it keeps veering left, then right. Aunt Anita doesn't look at the road; I feel her gazing lovingly at my profile. "You're driving really well," she says.
"I don't feel like I'm driving well at all!" I tell her.
"You're driving really well," she repeats. "You're doing a great job."
I told Jim about my dream Saturday morning, and, Sunday morning, Rev. Hutton read from I Samuel 30. I knew his choice of scripture wasn't random: that it was for me, from the Lord. Rev. Hutton doesn't know about my history with the story of David and Ziklag: how--during a Beth Moore study a few years ago--God used its words of restoration to heal a broken place in my heart. No one knows.
I took a pregnancy test Sunday evening. I don't know why. I'm a test taker, and, probably, I had David in the back of my mind, not to mention Aunt Anita. (I tend to dream my loved ones in heaven only when I'm pregnant.) I was definitely thinking: if I'm pregnant, I need to know, because I've stopped consuming dairy and meat products.
I tested positive for pregnancy.
The doctor, today, said: "I don't think leftover hCG is triggering the urine tests. I think--based upon your history--this is a new event. It's too early for an ultrasound. I'll order blood tests for today and Thursday to make sure your hCG level is rising as it should, and we'll go from there."
So I'm waiting. Again. Please pray. My doctor says I don't have to modify my Daniel Fast diet until we know for sure.