Ch 2: First Challenge
Only through questioning can we find the truth.
The funny thing about jigsaw puzzle pieces is that sometimes a wrong one looks like the right one and fits like the right one. And you won’t know it’s wrong until you get to the end.
The first challenge started with the very first entry at that fateful Women's Retreat in 1990. I was pregnant with my second child, barely into the third month. I was at the stage where you hold your breath and don't say a word about your condition to anyone but immediate family, just in case you should miscarry.
[Editor's Note: This article is Chapter 2 in my serialized memoir “Well Guided: My Life as a Student at the International Academy of God.” Access previous chapters via the Table of Contents.]
A Gender Reveal
In my very first letter to God, I asked about a couple of choices I was facing right then. Namely, what should be my next career move, and should we move to a different house before the baby comes. These topics were addressed in the message, but in a vague don’t-worry-about-it-yet-it’ll-be-fine sort of way. But, surprisingly, God seemed to be doing a gender reveal.
Your unborn child will be a girl—Julie Zoanne—and you will love her as you did your mother. She will be a blessing to you.
Julie Zoanne was the girl’s name Husband and I had already chosen. Julie because we both thought it sounded pretty. And Zoanne after my mother, Zoanne Caskey Hines, who had passed away in 1971 while I was still in high school. “Zoanne” was a contraction of the names of her mother’s two sisters: Zoda (Madge) Shinn Beyer and Anne Shinn Gray.
I had entered this first session of spiritual journaling (aka Listening for Guidance) in absolute faith, never doubting that I would receive a message. In later years, I would count this as an important element in my success with this journaling practice.
So because of that absolute faith, the fact that God had actually spoken to me was very nearly overshadowed by the fact that God had told me I was having a girl. Yay! A girl! The heart's desire of nearly any woman on the planet who already has a son.
I wrote my second letter to God five days later. All my questions centered around whether we should move. I got a little more of an answer this time, but it was general guidance about what to consider rather than specific advice about the two houses we were touring that day. That was the first paragraph.
The second paragraph began with
Be it known that your daughter Julie will be a blessing to you and your family.
The third letter, on December 23 (three months later), started getting a little more specific about housing. I was told neither house was right for us, and to prepare our current house for the baby. But before we even got to that, God chastised me for not writing sooner. That was pretty unexpected! But kind of funny in a way. Sounds like a mom saying “How come you never call me anymore?”
There was detailed advice about one particular house – the Hoechstetter house – which I liked and Husband REALLY liked, including why it wasn’t right for us. But then the baby came up again:
Your girl child will be lovely…
…followed by some stuff about various other family members.
Here Was the Challenge
A few days later, I had a sonogram. And the you-know-what hit my mental fan. The baby’s telling parts hadn’t been as obvious to me as they had been with First Son, but the sonographer had written "boy" on my chart.
In the fourth letter, written the evening after the sonogram, my confusion took center stage. I asked:
How is it that you have said my child will be a girl, but the sonogram indicates a boy? Is it a test of faith? Will I have yet another child?
And God answered in just one, brief paragraph:
As I have said before, it will be a girl. Disregard the sonogram. The conclusions are incorrect. [First Son] is right to call the baby Julie. Do not rush to buy sheets and other things. You will not need them right away. Only buy those things that are absolutely necessary for her. Amen.
Ok. I was up for that. In my intense desire for a daughter, I was willing to at least adopt a way-and-see attitude. But as a family, we were still planning "boy." I couldn't bring myself to tell Husband what God was telling me.
The fifth letter, 2 days later, continued the pattern: discussion of Husband’s dream house (Hoechstetter’s) in response to my continued questions, some other stuff I hadn’t asked about, and this:
Julie will grow to be a great child and a great woman. Seek her out as she grows older. She will have advice for you that comes from me. Be not afraid of your own questioning. You will see I have been right in the end. Sheets can wait, but furniture cannot. Move it soon, so you can rest in the latter days of your pregnancy.
You will need that rest for a difficult labor. Not so difficult as for [First Son], but still difficult just the same. The baby will be born by C-section if you are not careful and faithful to your Lamaze training. Heed it well; it will serve you well.
That last part was a surprise, where it detailed how the labor would go and then continued in a subsequent paragraph with an admonition to practice my Lamaze exercises.
Questioning the Message
In my sixth letter, on Groundhog Day (Yes, really!), I once again challenged the source of these messages:
It is difficult to believe your words, or that they come from you, sometimes. I expect things to go more smoothly, I guess, when I do as you ask. [Husband] and [First Son] seem ready and willing to buy Hoechstetter's. The sonogram says “boy.” … How can I be sure these words are from you?
But God just dug in:
Life can be confusing sometimes. But you are right to question my words and motives. For only through questioning can we, can you, find the truth. All is not as it seems…
Your baby is a girl child. You have been too hasty in buying clothes for a boy. Do not refer to it as [Second Son], as I know you have already tried to do. This is wise. It would have been wiser not to use Julie, either, but that is already done.
After that, there were a couple paragraphs about my career (finally!), one about Hoechstetter’s, and stuff about family.
In my seventh letter, six weeks later, as my 8-months-pregnant belly button was beginning to stretch into nothingness, God was still talking about Julie. And how nursing would be easier this time.
Two more times, just days before the baby came into our lives, God insisted I was having a girl. Five days before I went into labor, I was warned not to let Husband read my journal until after the delivery:
Be not hasty to [let Husband read the journal] before the birth, however. I must be proved to you both as regards the child’s sex and nature. Be of good cheer; it will be a girl—Julie Zoanne. Amen.
Labor & Delivery
Second Son was born at noon on a Saturday. As God had predicted, the labor was difficult, but easier than the first time. Not a stretch to come up with that one.
And, I have to admit, it was much more exciting to hear the doctor call out "It's a boy!" this time around. With First Son, that same moment-of-birth announcement had been denied its full due of excitement since I was dead certain of the sex.
But with my second child, I had prepared myself for either outcome. Since the spiritual message and the sonogram were in conflict, I had decided to just wait and see, as if I had no information at all.
I guess it was the scientist in me. This was just an experiment with an unknown outcome. Schrödinger's cat. Plus, I’m not one to let my hopes get so high that I’m disappointed with the outcome.
Although the whole sex thing didn't work out as the Spirit had led me to anticipate, one pre-labor warning turned out to be eerily valid. It was the part about preparatory exercising:
The baby will be born by C-section if you are not careful and faithful to your Lamaze training. Heed it well; it will serve you well.
After 6 hours in the birthing room (preceded by a near-sleepless night at home), it was almost time to push. One last half-centimeter. But it was taking too long. The baby’s head was stuck. On the brink of ordering a C-section, the obstetrician went for a Hail Mary.
"Do you think you could roll over onto your knees?" she asked me. Incredulous at this suggestion and feeling like a beached whale, I replied, "Only if someone pushes me over."
Husband and a nurse pushed me over, the baby’s head rolled into a better position, and we were good to go. They pushed me back over onto my back. Soon enough, Second Son was delivered.
It was only later, in a follow-up visit, that the obstetrician admitted how close I had come to having a C-section. And I realized I had heard of that rolling-over trick before... in Lamaze class.
Responding to the Challenge
But what was that all about, all that "Julie" stuff? I have to think that, for some people, this would have been enough to sour them on the whole Listening for Guidance thing.
Eventually, there would be more about Julie, and about the spirit world. But back then, in 1991, I just pushed all of that aside in favor of more pressing concerns.
I guess, somehow, spiritual journaling just felt right, felt normal. I think about what God had said right up front in that very first message, "Be not afraid to receive spiritual gifts and responsibilities." (That was two sentences before "Julie" was mentioned.)
And, God had fussed at me when I hadn't written for a couple of months. The Creator of the Universe fussed at me. Being the type of person who responds to authority (mostly), somehow that made it feel like a gauntlet had been thrown my way. I was driven to see what else They had to say to me.
And anyhow, I had a beautiful, healthy baby. That’s what really mattered.
And then there was the housing question. We needed a bigger house…soon.
We had unexpectedly found a buyer for our house just days after Second Son was born… despite the fact that we had officially taken it off the market. We were in a time crunch to find a new house.
The Spirit had already been giving me helpful guidance in this area, and I was desperate for that guidance to continue.
But as I think about it now, about why I REALLY kept going with journaling, I think it had to do with the groundwork the Lord had been laying for many, many years.
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