The boyfriend (AKA my husband) and I are the proud parents of two grown men! It’s birthday season around our house, and we celebrate our son’s birthdays two weeks apart. Our older son’s birthday always falls on or near Father’s Day. In fact, the year he was born, he was a belated Father’s Day gift to my husband by one day.

Scott was very active on the softball scene during our “young era,” and his team was in a tournament that Father’s Day weekend. The concourse to the fields sloped upwards so that the bleachers, concession stands, and announcer’s box were elevated from the dugouts. Large grassy slopes connected the concourse to field level. The wives decided to sit on the slopes instead of the bleachers to be near the players and to let the handful of littles among us roll down the hills.

That’s all great, but when you’re nine months pregnant, sitting on a hill, you feel like you’re about to tumble forward, belly first, until something – I don’t know, maybe a wall? – stops you. At least, that was a concern in the back of my mind. (We also kind of wonder if sitting on that slope all weekend was what actually put me into labor. Guess we’ll never know for sure.)

By the end of Father’s Day, we were hot, sweaty, and tired. And “we” were in early labor. We had been good listeners at our Lamaze birthing classes so we knew to wait until the contractions were prolonged and regular before heading to the hospital.

I won’t bore you with the details of labor and delivery except to brag on my boyfriend. By the time I felt like an epidural might be a good idea, the mean nurse told me it was too late. Uh, I don’t remember being told there was a point of no return. Maybe I wasn’t such a great listener after all. The one drug I did receive caused me to sleep between contractions – you know, the easy parts.

I would wake up as each wave of pain would begin to build, and I would panic and begin to cry. And my superhero husband would be down on his knees, his face level with mine in the bed, and he would tell me, “Baby, look at me!” And he would breathe that Lamaze stuff like he was in labor until I would join in and get through one contraction after the next. In the end, he and I “breathed” that baby boy right out into the delivery room!

What got me through the panic of those contractions was focusing on the face of someone who loved me. (FYI – baby #2 came peacefully into the world after Mommy was administered an epidural – no superhero antics needed from my sweet hubby.)

I’ve known panic plenty of times since I birthed my son - the spike in heartrate, the shallow breathing, the tightness rising in my chest brought on by a myriad of circumstances. Sometimes, I’ve floundered and lost control and basically lost my mind. But other times, early in the game, I’ve determined to focus on the face of Someone Who loves me. And that has made all the difference in the world.

I learned that lesson from Peter. (You can find this part of his story in Matthew 14:22-33.) Jesus had had a long day of ministry, and He wisely knew He needed time alone with the Father. He had His disciples get into a boat and sent them on ahead of Him to the other side of the lake. Then He went up on a mountainside to pray.

It was a windy evening, and as night came on, the breeze caused the waves to carry the boat into the middle of the lake. Very early in the morning, the disciples were terrified to see a “ghost” walking on the choppy waters! The “ghost” was Jesus Himself, and He spoke words of comfort to them. “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

My buddy Peter wanted proof. “Lord, if it’s You, tell me to come to You on the water.” Jesus said, “Come.” Then Peter took a literal step of faith that we probably don’t give him enough credit for. He climbed over the side of the boat and walked – on water – toward Jesus. The momentary distraction of the strength of the waves, however, was enough to draw Peter’s attention away from Jesus to the danger of the turbulent lake waters. Peter began to sink – to panic – and he cried out to Jesus, “Lord, save me!” Jesus didn’t hesitate. “Immediately, He reached out His hand and caught him.” Peter looked up into the face of Someone Who loved him, and he was safe.

Dear friend, there is Someone Who loves you – Jesus – and He longs to reach out His hand to catch you. Maybe you’ve searched in all kinds of places for relief from your trial and struggles and have come up empty. I promise you – if you’ll search the face of that Someone Who loves you, He won’t let you down. He is your safe harbor, your rescue in the storm, and your place of rest and peace.

“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” – Matthew 11:28-29