Over the past few weeks I have come to realize something about my entire journey to motherhood. Something big. Something simple yet powerful. Something I am not proud of but not ashamed of either. I’ve realized I have been doing this all wrong. I have reflected deeply upon the past five years and have come to the harsh reality that although I have walked aside Christ through it all, I have not exactly knelt before him with my needs. I have not exactly entrusted in him. I wanted control and favored the words of physician after physician over the Great Physician. I have put all of my hope in their words for my family and not all of my hope in HIS words.
I came to realize this on Christmas Eve. I had an appointment to receive several test results. I felt scared but certain I had an idea of what was going on. As my doctor was talking-and talking-and talking, I faded away a little bit. My mind wandered and I became a bit annoyed. I think my doctor knew I wasn’t hearing the words I wanted to hear. He knew I wanted him to tell me what to do. But he couldn’t and he wouldn’t. I’m really tired of trying to figure it out on my own. He gave his non-biased opinion of course but that wasn’t enough. I wanted a yes or no. Can my body carry or baby or not? Period.
I took what I wanted from that appointment. At first I took only the good and quickly made my own decision on how I planned to move forward. I decided how I would bring our baby home. But then something happened in church that evening. Tears flooding down my face. Children surrounding us in their cute little Christmas outfits. Families together. Parents holding their babies with such joy. Bret and I mustering all of our strength to not fall to the ground. The Pastor preached about how often we put our hope into things that are not God. It hit me.
I heard only what I wanted to hear from the doctor. But I didn’t listen to God. And a very stubborn piece of me hasn’t listened to him on this journey at all. In fact there have been times I feared disappointment so much that I could barely pray to God for my specific needs. I kept it general. I was afraid if I felt anymore heartache then I would become so angry with him and eventually turn away. So I just found a clever way to love him where it was comfortable. But that’s not how faith works. And not allowing him to be my guide on this journey has not fooled him. Not in the least.
It has been a difficult realization. One that I am pouring my entire life into changing. I know his way is best. I know his ways are good. I know he has great plans for me. Maybe I’ve just been so afraid that they weren’t in alignment with my plans, what I have wanted all of this time. So I took my own path. I loved him, I praised him and believed in him with all my heart-but I didn’t apply trusting him on my own journey to having a family. That felt too vulnerable because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what his plans were, so I covered my ears.
I am so grateful for his Grace. It has been so very loud in my head all this time but especially since losing Jake. I literally have not felt a speck of clarity. It’s like I have been stuck in a web in my mind for all of this time and have been trying to process, to understand, to get answers, to find reasons to hope and to grieve the loss of my son while reliving his birth in my head over and over again. There is never and I mean never a quiet moment up there. Not even in my dreams most nights.
After I came to recognize where I have been putting my trust, I prayed for forgiveness. But I have already been forgiven. And that is the beauty of Grace. Since that prayer my mind has slowly quieted down a bit and my heart can literally feel his path start to unfold. Signs are everywhere. My emotions are stronger and more at peace when I consider one way over another. I feel less jumbled. I feel more clarity. I feel his presence and his guidance.
How amazing? FIVE years of chaos in my mind… began to clear up within moments. Because of HIM.
All of this time; I’ve been doing it all wrong.
This new sense of clarity doesn’t remove the pain but it certainly takes a load off my shoulders. I feel lighter, more like myself. I’m beginning to recognize myself in the mirror again. I am different, but connected again with my soul. Connected again with my faith in a bigger way. I am open to his path. I am hearing his whispers. I am feeling his presence all around me again. And it’s been there the whole time. But now I feel it in a celebratory way. As if I see him smiling and saying “YES! She’s getting it! The lightbulb has finally turned on!” You see, all of this time I have felt his presence through my grief in a supportive, deep, yet very sad kind of way. Now I feel his presence as if we are actually connecting, finally on our way to getting on the same page.
I believe that is the feeling of peace. There can be pain and peace at the same time. In fact I’m not sure that I could feel peace without the pain. For now I truly know what that word means and encompasses. And I appreciate it so much more than I ever have. To feel peace is so refreshing. To feel pain is so daunting. How can anyone really feel refreshed if they haven’t felt thirsty?
“But now for a brief moment grace has been shown from the LORD our God, to leave us an escaped remnant and to give us a peg in His holy place, that our God may enlighten our eyes and grant us a little reviving in our bondage.” Ezra 9:8
I feel more alert. I feel more energy. I feel more alive.
I can finally feel the thousands of prayers for us coveting me with comfort.