This week marks 1 year of trying to conceive for me and my husband. I had it marked on our calendar because I was hoping we wouldn't make it to that point, but here we are. Our story at times seems so small compared to the years of struggle other couples face, but I've come to realize it's just as much real and hard and I've learned to let God meet me there.
I would have never imagined in a million years this would be part of our story. I never imagined the countless months of hope that led to disappointment. I never imagined the sadness I would experience when best friends and acquaintances announced pregnancies. I never imagined asking God over and over, "why?" Even when we have had questions answered, I never imagined the rejoicing that would take place in my heart all the while, crying and hoping that it would be different. I never imagined, at the same time, how I could experience the joy in the midst of what has felt never-ending. I never imagined sharing in heartache with a good friend who has suffered lost. I never imagined what a year of TTC would have done for our marriage, drawing us toward one another in ways we never expected. I never imagined being brought low to a place of utter dependence of Jesus. I never imagined God peeling away the layers of my heart to see Him as a good God and not as a cosmic joker who is watching me and laughing at me. That's not who He is. I've come to trust that those things are not a part of His character. I'm forever changed because of that truth.
I never imagined any of that. I imagined having a baby right now. But that's not our story. My heart is so thankful. I'm thankful because while we still hope and pray for a child, however that may come, we have a good God who weeps with us. A God who cares for us. We have a God who longs for us to find comfort in him.
I write this not for pity but to declare the hope I have in Jesus. I write this to proclaim the goodness and graciousness of our God. I write this for women and families who feel isolated and alone in a similar struggle. I write this to rejoice with those who have struggled and now rock a sweet baby to sleep in their arms. I write this to encourage those who feel utterly hopeless--that there is hope and it's found outside of ourselves in the person and presence of Jesus. A hope that's enteral, a hope that's life giving, a hope that sustains and is never lacking.
I write this as a testament of God's grace that he breathes life into things that were once before not found.
So as you wait, and I wait, as we wait together, may you be reminded you aren't alone. It's okay that we are sad and that we cry out and that we ask "why?" And it's okay to ask for help and to reach out to a friend or someone you trust.