Dear readers, from time to time I ask others to share their stories of faith, hope, and love in order to encourage us all. If you have a story to share, you can find my guidelines under the Connect tab. In the meantime, welcome Angela Couch!
April was a great month for me. My historical romance, The Patriot and the Loyalist, was released, I was busy getting ready for a move into a larger home, and I was entering the second trimester with my fourth pregnancy—yay, no more morning sickness! And then, about a week before our move, and at 14 weeks along, I threatened to miscarry.
But everything was going to be alright.
I stayed in bed catching up on edits, promoting my book, and enjoying a “When Calls the Heart” marathon, while my poor hubby tried to keep up with kids, packing, and a little work on the side.
Everything was going to be alright.
Thursday the 4th of May we had the moving truck booked and friends lined up to help us pack up our home so we could make the three hour drive south Friday morning, (my husband’s birthday). But by two in the morning, I knew plans were going to change. I’d given birth to three babies. I knew what labor felt like. Only this was six months too early. And there was way too much blood.
Prayer brought peace, but not the kind I wanted. With that peace came the understanding that I wasn’t having a baby this Halloween. The understanding that I needed to stop fighting my body and let nature take its course. The hardest thing I’ve ever done.
By eight in the morning I came home to my house of boxes, no longer pregnant.
Yet God did not leave me alone.
I told my husband I wanted to go ahead with the move on schedule. No sitting in limbo. I honestly just wanted the distraction, the busyness around me though I would be of no help. I believe that in itself was a gift from God. And that peace that continued with me. The wonderful understanding that God held my baby…and that someday I would hold him or her, too. I just needed to wait for my turn.
Gradually it became so the miscarriage wasn’t about “losing” my baby. The Lord whispered “patience” to me. His timeline, his plan for my live, and that child’s life, is the perfect one. All I need to do is trust.
To keep from freezing in the Great White North, Angela Couch cuddles under quilts with her laptop. Winning short story contests, being a semi-finalist in ACFW’s Genesis Contest, and a finalist in the International Digital Awards also helped warm her up. As a passionate believer in Christ, her faith permeates the stories she tells. Her martial arts training, experience with horses, and appreciation for good romance sneak in there, as well. When not writing, she stays fit (and warm) by chasing after three munchkins.
Completing his three years in the Continental Army, Daniel Reid still has no desire to return home-not after losing the woman he loves to a British Captain-so he volunteers to ride south through enemy lines and deliver a message to Colonel Francis Marion, the Swamp Fox. With his temper needing a release and a dark haired beauty finding her way into his broken heart, Daniel decides to join the Swamp Fox’s efforts against the British. Little does he know the British still have the upper hand.
Lydia Reynolds has learned that love comes at a price, and she refuses to pay. Better to close her heart to everything and everyone. When her brother-in-law won’t grant her passage to England, where she hopes to hide from her pain, New Englander, Daniel Reid, becomes her only hope-if she can induce him to give her information about the notorious Swamp Fox and his troops. When the British grow impatient and Daniel evades her questions, Lydia must decide how far to take her charade. The poor man, already gutted by love, hasn’t grown as wise as she. Or so she supposes. . .
Until the truth is known, the muskets are loaded. . .and it is time to decide where true loyalties lie.