I’m unsure of how to express all that I feel, but I know you see all that resides within my heart. You see my longings and my fears, my gratitude and my restlessness. Within my heart are the questions to which you alone have the answers. Will you allow our third baby to grow? How long will this baby live? Can I emotionally survive another loss, if you so choose? You know, Lord. And that has to be enough for me. Please, help my heart to rest in you—the Creator and Sustainer of life.
Creator. You are the God who created all things. You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you for opening my womb and creating life again where death has reigned. I praise you for this tiny life I already love so much, despite my honest and shameful efforts to not grow attached. Thank you, Lord, for the gift of carrying this baby for however many days you have already decided.…
It seems, even before the first sprout sprang from the ground, indicating spring is near, my heart had already begun to dread what follows April showers. It’s not those beautiful flowers which May typically brings, nor is it the warmer weather I fear.
It’s Mother’s Day.
The day where churches worldwide will honor the visible mommas, the ones whose arms or wombs are filled. Many times, forgetting those whose wombs remain empty as they long for children they’ve either yet to receive, or have lost.
Before continuing, I want to state clearly that I truly believe mothers should be honored both on Mother’s Day and all other days. But as we celebrate the observable moms in our life, may we also reach out to the invisible ones and the childless women among us.
It was on this holiday that I first saw the faint line on a pregnancy test, so faint I dismissed it until testing again four days later.…
“But if you could choose, would you choose to be discontent until you receive a baby, or to trust God and never receive a baby?”
His question caused me to pause for thought, making me uncomfortable as it sliced through my self-deception. If God told me that trusting him meant I would never receive a child from my womb, would I still trust him? As much as I wish I could say a hearty “yes!” immediately sprang from my tongue, it would be a lie.
He continued, “Because, in the end, none of this will matter, except that we trusted him.”
The Gift or the Giver
My husband is right. In eternity, what will matter most is not the gifts we received, but how much we trusted the Giver. Did we treasure earthly things more than the true Treasure? Did we submit our lives to our idolized desires or to the King of Kings?…
I held the pregnancy test in my hand and examined it closely. Could there be a faint line? Oh Lord, please let there be a faint line. There wasn’t. It was negative. No baby had taken root in my womb and those supposed symptoms proved to be simply taunting me, giving me false hope that life had begun to flourish where I’d only seen it die.
The day before, my best friend had announced that she was finally pregnant. As I genuinely rejoiced over the little one in her womb, I took my place as the only woman in my church without living children. This negative pregnancy test nearly broke me.
I tread lightly in taking upon myself the term “infertile.” Not because of the shame sometimes attached to it, but because there’s a different set of painful circumstances that a woman struggling to conceive faces. I don’t claim to understand that deep pain.…
I’ve found wrestling with God to be a common occurrence in this season of life. My faith often feels frail as I hope each month for new life to begin in my womb, only to look upon a negative pregnancy test.
God continues to show me my utter lack of control over the conceiving and sustaining of life. He has so clearly derailed our plans as of late. From sickness to imprecise cycles, he’s slowly pulling my fingers back, one by one, from their death clutch on my fertility. I make my plans; he changes them, leaving me swimming in chaos, scanning the world for a way out or a quick fix to my problem. But the world’s answers return void every time.
A Burden That Isn’t Mine
It does feel chaotic to believe life is in my hands. When I begin to live life this way, I think things like…
If I make sure I don’t exercise too much…
If I drink less coffee…
If I take my progesterone at the perfect time…
This article was originally written for Broken Beautiful Bold Ministries here.
“What is God’s calling on my life?”
Oh, the question every Christian seems to have been asking since the day they were converted. And to be honest, I’m not a huge fan of it.
We tend to view a “calling” as a passion God has placed in our heart. And while this is something God certainly does sometimes, he also calls us to hard things. Things we never wanted to do and possibly still don’t.
Some are called to singleness.
Some are called to infertility.
Some may be called to ongoing health issues.
And somehow, in his sovereignty, God uses both for the growth of his Kingdom. He uses the passion and the trial for his glory and our good. Neither have a bigger impact than the other.
Oftentimes, we think of a calling as something that will exalt us rather than the Kingdom.…