Sometimes there is a song that helps define a period of your life; a song that nearly perfectly describes what you are feeling or what you are going through. ‘Tis the case with Laura Story’s song Blessings. I feel like it captures so much of how I have felt during this period of my life:
We pray for blessings. We pray for peace.
Comfort for family. Protection while we sleep.
We pray for healing, for prosperity.
We pray for your mighty hand to ease our suffering.
But all the while you hear each spoken need.
Yet love is way too much to give us lesser things.
‘Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops?
What if Your healing comes through tears?
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near?
What if trials of this life, are Your mercies in disguise?
We pray for wisdom; Your voice to hear.
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near.
We doubt Your goodness. We doubt Your love.
As if every promise from Your word is not enough.
But all the while, You hear each desperate plea.
And long that we’d have faith to believe.
‘Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops?
What if Your healing comes through tears?
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near?
What if trials of this life, are Your mercies in disguise?
When friends betray us. When darkness seems to win, we know…
The pain reminds this heart that this is not, this is not our home. It’s not our home.
‘Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops?
What if Your healing comes through tears?
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near?
What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy?
What if trials of this life, the rain, the storms, the hardest nights, are Your mercies in disguise?
Infertility has been my companion for nearly two years. It is like this invisible devastating force in my life that just will not go away. No matter how much I hope, how much I ignore it, or how much I pray, it never seems to leave my side. It has changed my life. As much as I have tried to live in spite of it and not be defined by it, I truly believe that it is one of those things in my life that will forever change me. As a result of all we’ve gone through, I have wrestled with God more times than I can count and been humbled to my knees more times than I can even remember. Infertility is such a humbling thing because you realize you have no control. When you can’t even control what happens within your own body, this body that allows me to live and breath and think and move… to realize that I have no control over it, is incredibly humbling. To know that no matter how much I beg God for a child, no matter how much I pray or read His word, or plead with Him to hear my cries…. it doesn’t change the fact that my womb is still empty. It’s humbling. It’s humbling because it makes me realize that I cannot control God. It reminds me that I can’t always get what I want and sometimes God has plans that are different than mine. Even when His plans don’t make sense, when I can’t understand or comprehend why this journey can’t finally come to an end, He knows. And He loves me enough to keep asking me to endure it, to keep putting me in situations that get harder and harder at every turn.
This song describes my heart perfectly. We pray for things to go how we want them. We even pray for good things, things we know God loves. But just because we pray doesn’t mean God is going to answer and just because God doesn’t answer doesn’t mean that our cries weren't heard. I know He hears my pleading. He sees the aching in my heart and my longing to hold a child. The desire I have to teach a little boy or girl about our Savior, to see their eyes light up over the silliest things, to hear their cries knowing it is my arms alone that can soothe them… He sees it all. The hardest thing to do is to wrestle with the emotions of feeling abandoned and cast off by God and somehow begin to view them as blessings, as His mercies. Because how can something so painful, something that seems filled with darkness and loneliness and silence, how can that be God’s blessing?
There have been times when I have cried out to God, asking Him where He is, why He is so silent, why He seems so very far away. Sometimes I’m angry, but most of the time I just hurt because I don’t understand it. I don’t see it as God sees it. I only see little snapshots of this life, I can’t see the whole canvas, I can’t see the whole story He is writing and fulfilling day by day. I’ve doubted who God is and how He can love me when He feels so far away. And regarding those emotions, Laura Story brings up one of the most piercing lines. “As if every promise from Your word is not enough.” That thought pierces my heart to the core because infertility does not change what God did for me. It doesn’t change the fact that He died for me; in fact it just shows me yet another reason why He died for me. He died to rescue me from the death and darkness and diseases of this world. He died to rescue me from the sin that brought about infertility in the first place. I firmly believe that if there was no fall, no sin, there would be no infertility. This cannot be how God intended it. Christ died so that I can one day be free of everything that fills this world, the sadness and darkness and depravity. This isn’t my destiny forever. Regardless of what happens today or tomorrow or next year, someday I will be free of all that grieves my heart. I will see my Savior and fall at His feet and for the first time truly understand what He did to set me free, what it cost Him to allow me to walk into His presence and spend eternity with Him.
My heart knows all that, my heart knows that this world is not the end, but it still hurts. It doesn’t change the fact that I still have to walk through this journey today and feel the weight of unfilled desires and unanswered pleas. I have hope that God has good things planned for our family, but I daily have to grapple with the fact that even if God never answers our prayers for a child, He is still good and sovereign and worthy of our praise. He is Adonai and Abba, both my Lord and my Father… my Savior whose grace daily sustains this beating heart.
My desires is to be able to be more open about where we've been and where we're going. I know we have a family that desires to walk with us through this journey and it is hard to be supportive when you don't even know what is happening... so here begins our postings about this arduous journey (that will hopefully have a sweet and beautiful ending sooner rather than later...).
