It wasn’t supposed to go like this. 14 years I waited, while hope of ever carrying a child myself grew worn and faint. Yet it steadfastly flickered on–unwilling to be snuffed out. Three years ago this month God breathed life into her lungs as we heard her cry for the very first time. Hope majestically fulfilled, finally.It was one of the single most incredible moments of my life. It also marked the beginning of a journey through physical pain that I never even dreamed possible.
Hope flickers, still unwilling to die.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to be a broken mommy. And yet…
It is life in the hard place.
The place of questions and fears and battling to hold onto hope and God when you just do not understand.
The hard place. Perhaps you know it? If not, you will.
It threatens to steal your breath and snuff out the flame of hope.
Somewhere along the way He has drawn me in and completely convinced me of his greatness and his goodness, even in the waiting, especially in the hard. He is it. When he doesn’t quiet the storm, when the pain continues, when wave after wave of hard hits, he still has you.
And the gift?
You see him more clearly in the pain, all ideas of your “god-ness” fall away. You finally comprehend that you can’t do this without Him. The sweetness of total surrender is now understood because you are certain of your need. Maybe that is the greatest gift in the hard–the pearls of his presence unequalled even in seasons of great pleasure.
I wish there was some other way, but we wander. We are too quick to believe the lies, and to take our eyes off of Him. And so, though it never ever feels like it, maybe it is one of his greatest mercies after all– lest we get so full of ourselves we believe we never needed Him.
My hope remains unbreakable because it firmly rests in Him. Where is your hope today?