God is really doing a work in me. While I have been neglecting my relationship with God, he is slowly, sweetly wooing me to an intimacy with him beyond my imagination.
When God wants to get a message across, I love how he does it over and over and over. Apparently he knows subtlety doesn’t work with me–or that this message is too important for subtlety.
And I can’t help but feel that I should be the one striving to have a relationship with God–not the other way around. He does not need my friendship, there is nothing I can offer him, yet I am convinced there is nothing the Father would not do to woo me to himself.
From today’s reading in my One Year Bible (NLT), God repeated this relationship theme three times. These verses reinforce both how I need that relationship with God and why I am so very blessed to have the opportunity to be in a right and restored relationship with him!
As David is passing the kingdom to Solomon he gives this advice I needed to hear:
“And Solomon, my son, learn to know the God of your ancestors intimately. Worship and serve him with your whole heart and a willing mind. For the LORD sees every heart and knows every plan and thought. If you seek him, you will find him. But if you forsake him, he will reject you forever” (I Chronicles 28:9).
And we have the privilege of having this relationship, as Paul writes:
“So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God because our Lord Jesus Christ has made us friends of God” (Romans 5:11).
And finally:
“Yes, Adam’s one sin brings condemnation for everyone, but Christ’s one act of righteousness brings a right relationship with God and new life for everyone” (Romans 5:18)
What a beautiful reminder of the lengths God has gone to get to us. As blessed as I am by my friendships on this earth, how much more of a blessing it is to have the God of the Universe as a dear and intimate friend.
Sometimes God prevents things in our lives that he knows would pull our hearts away from him. I heard this and thought: Lord, would a baby do that? Would I put my baby over you?
The sad truth is, I don’t know. I’d like to think I wouldn’t. I think dealing with infertility makes it more likely that I will put any future children on a pedestal, though. But maybe being infertile also gives perspective. And I know I have some time to think about this and make sure that I won’t have a child I value more than God.
This realization led to a difficult prayer. Perhaps the most difficult prayer I’ve prayed. I meant it, though. Every word. And I still do:
Lord, if having a child would draw my heart away from you or cause me to delight in the baby or pregnancy or any aspect of it more than I delight in you–let me continue to be infertile. Let me know that my relationship with you really is enough. I don’t need anything else. And if you will for me to be childless or to not have biological children with my husband, or anything along those lines, let me trust that your will is good and perfect. Help me believe and know in my innermost being that you are all-sufficient for me. That I need nothing but you in my life.
I want to delight in the Lord. Oh how I want him to be my delight. I want to seek his face. I want to be a woman after God’s heart!
I think about Paul and his conversion experience. This man was a Pharisee. Legalistic as they come. He knew the law forward and backward, but when the Messiah came he missed it. His response to what he heard about Jesus? Kill the believers. Stop the heresy.
And then, one day, on his way to Damascus, Paul was struck by a blinding light, and Jesus spoke.
There had to be something so beautiful, so compelling about Jesus. Paul saw it that day–though in seeing he became physically blind for a time. He saw something that was glorious and wonderful and amazing enough that he turned completely from what he had been, from what he was doing, from what he wanted to do with his life. He turned his life completely to serving God and Christ. He turned his life completely to having a relationship with Jesus and to helping others know his savior.
I submit that you don’t do a 180 like that in life without good reason.
What a reminder that knowing Jesus is worth everything. Choosing anything over that relationship with my heavenly Father, with my Savior–that’s utter foolishness. I repent, Lord, for I have done that in the past. And I pray that I will live with God supreme in my life. My God. My Great God.
The God who gave us light.
Sunrise over the Mekong, Chiang Khong, Thailand
As an aside: this is not to say that I think our infertility is necessarily God’s will for my life–or for anyone’s. Some will disagree with me on this, but I just don’t believe that God’s will is always done. I believe a lot of the pain and suffering that we experience in this world is a consequence of the fall. I believe the sins of man generally have a negative effect on us personally. (I’ve written about this before.)
But I also believe that God will make even infertility something for our good. I’m starting to see the ways he is working it for our good even now.
I have been looking in the Bible and crying out to God in prayer and meditation in hopes of finding a certain answer or an answer to a certain question. You’ve probably guessed the answer I’m looking for is “Yes,” and the question is “Will you give me a child?”
But today I realized that this is the wrong way to be approaching God. I knew that already, but I don’t think I realized how much I have been treating God as some kind of magic genie. Instead, I need to be listening to God to hear what he wants to teach me and see what he wants to show me. I need to be growing closer to him so I will know him better and see him moving in my life. I need a relationship with God, not a vending machine for my every whim.
Psalm 37:4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.”
I heard recently that when it says “desires of your heart” here, it doesn’t mean that you will get anything you want from God (that’s back to the vending machine thing, huh?). Instead, it means that God will put desires in your heart that are in line with his will. I like that interpretation. It makes sense to me.
I thought I hadn’t been hearing much from God lately, but as I look back, I see that he’s been communicating with me all along. He just hasn’t necessarily been talking about what I thought I wanted him to talk about. What he’s been saying instead is, “Trust me. Do not be afraid. Do not worry.”
And as I trust him more and allow fear and anxiety less of a hold over my life each day, I can see that these things are changing my life.
It turns out he’s been giving me exactly what I need exactly when I need it.
I have an enemy called Fear. We don’t get along well, but I have, off and on, allowed Fear to be a close companion. And not in the “keep your enemies closer” kind of way.
Fear keeps sneaking up on me and trying to steal my joy. She sneaks into my thoughts and tells me lies. Lies like I’ll never be fulfilled if I don’t have children. Lies like I’m wasting my life waiting around for a baby. Lies like I’d better hurry up and figure out what I’m supposed to do with my life, because I’m clearly not having a child any time soon.
For months I let fear live with me. She came in and made a pleasant little home for herself. When my thoughts would stray toward our infertility, she was right there ready to tell me all the reasons my life looked bleak. When I spent a day at home without a lot of work I needed to do, she taunted me. When I wondered where I was going or what I was going to do, she egged me on. “Worry more,” she’d say. “There’s so much you should be worried about.”
Fear has a few buddies she invited over for regular, noisy parties. Anxiety would come. Low Self-Esteem always showed up. Loneliness was definitely around. But the life of the party was Worry. They all came and they always made a mess.
Anxiety always echoed Fear’s haunting chorus: “You’ve got nothing. You’re going nowhere.” And added, “What are we going to do?”
Low Self-Esteem said, “Without children, who are you? You’re not valuable to future generations. You’re not worthy of your mommy-friends. And you’re really letting yourself go these days.” (Okay, there may be some truth to that last one . . .)
Loneliness tried to make me forget that I am never alone, that God is always with me. She tried to make me forget that my husband, my best friend, is here for me. Loneliness tried to tell me my friends, especially the ones who live far away, were too busy with their own, more important, lives to have time to talk to me. Loneliness told me that I didn’t fit in–that I’m too long married to be with the “young marrieds” and too barren to hang with the fertile crowd.
And Worry. She got into everything. Every aspect of my life was under her purview. “What if your husband has a terrible car accident on his way to work? Then you’ll really be alone. What if you get everything in order and still can’t make a baby? What if you can’t have any children? What will you do with yourself then? What if . . .”
A mess indeed. I look back on those months and I remember the company I was keeping–the company I was feeding and allowing to be part of my life–and it’s no wonder that I was depressed. That I was always tired. That I felt Hope slipping away.
And then something changed. Slowly, I began to realize that I was nourishing all of these negative voices instead of the positive voices that were standing at the door and waiting to be let in to influence my life. I was feeding Fear and Worry. I was giving them a free pass. But I didn’t have to do that.
And I found in the Word, “There is no fear in love. But perfect love casts out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love” (I John 4: 18).
And I found in the Word, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God” (Philippians 4:6).
I find today that I am not afraid. I’m not afraid that we won’t be able to have children even with help. It may happen, but I’m not afraid of it. I’m not afraid that I will not be a mother. I may never be a mother, but I’m not afraid. I don’t need to worry about tomorrow–I need to live today.
I am choosing Joy instead of Worry and Peace instead of Anxiety. I am choosing Love instead of Fear. And maybe when Love comes in and finds it is at home, Fear is evicted and can’t find a place to lay her head. Love trumps Fear. Love wins.
When we moved into the house, we set aside one of the three bedrooms as a nursery. I didn’t want anything to go in it. I was so sure that we would be decorating it soon for a baby and I didn’t want to end up putting a bunch of junk in there that we would need to find new places for when a baby was on the way.
When we received our infertility diagnosis, our view of things changed. The “nursery” became the spare bedroom. We let some things get piled up in there–but it mostly just has books lining the walls. The books are waiting for shelving we plan to build in our office, a project that will almost surely be completed before we have a baby.
Then we read a book called The Circle Maker byMark Batterson. My mom gave it to me in February when she and my dad came for a visit. And DH and I read a chapter each night together until we finished the book. The book is all about prayer–powerful prayer. It’s not about getting what you want from God. It’s more about getting what God wants for you by dedicating yourself to praying more consistently and with more intention and focus.
I don’t really know how to explain it, but after reading that book we decided to rechristen the room as the nursery. DH and I have made a habit of going in there every night to pray specifically about our hope for a child, asking God to mold our desires to his, and telling God that we have planned this room as a nursery and that we will keep asking for his blessing in that room until he directs us in a different way. We read prayers or Bible verses and we add our own prayers. Sometimes we stay in there for just a few minutes. Sometimes much longer. We say we are using the nursery as a prayer circle.
Before I only ventured in there if I was looking for a book. Now we go in every day. It used to feel haunted, and there is no baby there–yet. But I have come to enjoy having a place that helps us focus our prayers.
And perhaps one day the nursery will be used for a baby of ours. Or perhaps God has another plan. We’ll have to wait and see what he intends for us. In the meantime, I am so grateful to have a God who hears our prayers and who cares about our desires. And I trust that his will is best for our life, even if things turn out differently than I think I want.
Is there something you want to pray more intentionally about? What do you do to focus your prayers? Is there something I can pray for you? I’d be honored to join you in praying for God’s direction and peace in your life.
I’ve been a negligent blogger lately. I guess if I want to over-analyze, it’s probably not a bad thing. I started the blog because I needed a space to write and air my grievances, a space to heal. And I needed to know I wasn’t the only person out here on this messed up ride called infertility. So the fact that I haven’t felt as compelled lately to post–well, I think it may indicate that my attitude has improved. And it has. The peace I mentioned in my last post apparently wasn’t just a momentary fluke, because I’m still feeling it.
My circumstances haven’t changed. We’re still waiting. And honestly, hoping and praying we’ll end up avoiding actually doing inferitlity treatments. It’s a long shot, for sure, but wouldn’t that be amazing? And I know nothing is too difficult for the LORD.
All this has had me thinking lately about miracles and answered prayers. How many miracles do we ignore completely? How many answers to prayer do we miss because we’re too caught up in the day to day? This season of infertility has called our attention more and more toward how God is moving in our lives all the time, in ways we maybe wouldn’t have called out or mentioned before.
It has been amazing to grow through this difficulty with my best friend. I’ve watched his faith deepen throughout the past several months. He’s thanking God for things I don’t think he would have seen God’s hand in even six months ago. He’s taking more leadership for our family as the spiritual head of our household. I have a tendency to step in and take over, infringing on his leadership, but I’ve been praying that would change, and that DH would really be the spiritual leader of our house. Another answer to prayer?
And little tiny things–like how DH’s car passed its inspection this weekend despite having an indicator light on that best estimates suggest will require a $1000 fix we just can’t afford right now. And how our first two rounds of medicine were free because the insurance company and/or the pharmacy messed up and told us they were covered 100 percent, and they actually went by what they told us despite the fact that it should have cost $500+ each time. And how they billed our most recent round of meds as a $20 copay (by the grace of God!).
There are everyday little things that may seem insignificant, but it is so nice to be reminded that God has not forgotten us. He hears us and he cares about us. He’s in it with us and he knows how he will resolve things for us. What an incredible relief!
Ultimately, it’s a reminder that I’m a benefactor of the ultimate miracle: that God loved me enough to find a way to pay the cost of my sin. Forgiveness: What a miracle.
Miracles really do happen all the time. I pray that I won’t be blind to them in my life. And that seeing miracles–both those that affect me directly and others’ answers to prayer–will strengthen my faith that God is, absolutely, beyond any doubt, able to work the miracle of children in my life should he choose. And if not, it’s not because of any lack on his part. It’s because he has something better planned.
It’s so hard to make any plans when you’re infertile. Partly because infertility alone is something you never planned and you can’t know how it will be resolved. And partly because one of the lessons of infertility is that we don’t have as much control over our lives as we might think or desire. So what’s the use in planning anyway?
So, it’s been a while since my last update. We checked out apartments, but we just couldn’t see ourselves going from a house to an apartment again. The dogs like having a yard, and we like that they have a yard. We started looking for a house we could rent. No luck on that front. At least not yet. We’ve gone out a few times to drive around the various neighborhoods near downtown. The Heights gets a lot of hype, but I’m not sure I get the appeal. I mean, you still can’t really walk anywhere, and Houston’s public transit system is lousy, so it’s not like when we lived in Arlington, VA, and only had to pull the car out of the garage once or twice a week.
I loved one little part of town; it’s called Montrose. It’s eclectic and really cute, and it actually seems pretty walkable; there are restaurants and coffee/tea houses dotted throughout, a couple of nice parks, and the zoned elementary school is actually a magnet Montessori school. Montrose is also slightly less expensive than the Heights, though I don’t really understand why.
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As an aside: We’ve learned some interesting things about Houston Independent School District, though we have more to learn if we end up moving into downtown and having children. But the key takeaway so far is that HISD has a really robust magnet program that includes the aforementioned Montessori elementary school, an elementary school with a dual language program, an elementary school that is 100 percent gifted students, middle schools with various magnets for gifted programs and arts and other things, a high school that is specifically geared for kids who want to go into a medical profession, a high school that offers an international baccalaureate (not yet clear on what that is), a fine arts high school, and a number of other things depending on what a child might be interested in. I’m really kind of fascinated by all these programs and curious about how they work, but it explains a bit about how housing prices can be super high in areas zoned to mediocre to poor elementary schools. Where you’re zoned seems to have little effect on where your children actually attend classes.
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Really, we’ve been going back and forth. We keep checking out the Houston real estate website (har.com), to see what houses are available. We’ve talked about buying a little bungalow–similar in size to what we would have expected to live in if we’d stayed in DC, though the DC houses all had basements at least. These houses are about 1000 sq. ft. less than what we currently have–but I guess we have more space than we really need for two. Most were built between 1920 and 1940 and have been remodeled inside. They are on decent sized lots that a developer would stick two townhouses on if it were sold for lot value. If we bought one of these bungalows, then, maybe in a few years, when we can afford it, we could add on to the house or even tear it down and build new. Which would mean that we could wait until we had a better understanding of our future financial situation. Part of the issue is that we don’t know how much DH is likely to be earning in the near future, especially since it seems his industry is really bonus-oriented.
So, everything is up in the air. We contacted our Realtor to see how much he’d have us sell our house for if we sold it now. And we did go to an open house last weekend in the Heights. But, we’re hesitating. Maybe we will wait and try to sell our house next summer, after we’ve had some time to adjust to DH’s new schedule, and after we’ve had a chance to see if infertility treatments work for us or not.
Then again, maybe we’ll go look at some houses tomorrow when DH gets off his last night shift and decide we don’t want to wait.
I just wish we could decide and stick with it. Also, I wish the houses where we are looking weren’t so expensive. Or that we had the capital to buy a lot and just sit on it until we could afford to build. But that is definitely not to be.
But what if it’s just greener grass because it’s not what we have now? A temporary antidote to general dissatisfaction?
And why does it have to be so difficult to make any plans?
In the two-weeks since I last wrote, something unexpected happened. I’ll post on that next, as this is already long enough.
DH got promoted a few weeks ago, though he’s still working his shift schedule until the new guy is trained and ready to replace him. At this point, that means at least one more night shift.
But this week is a normal M-F work week. So DH is spending his time with the new department and doing the new hours.
In his current position (not the promotion), he was working 6 a.m. – 6 p.m. (or vice versa on nights), Wed.-Tues. most weeks, and 6 a.m. – 3 p.m. one week out of five. The latter would be the normal working hours (maybe to 4) for him if he’d stayed in the department he was in. At those hours, he expects a 30-40 minute commute. Which is long, but doable.
In the new position he’s in a new department. So he’s working 8 a.m. – 6 p.m. About the worst possible time to go to work in Houston. His morning commute has increased to at least 50 minutes, and the trip home takes even longer. He’s spending about two hours per day in the car.
I think I posted before about things we did because we expected a large family. Moving to Katy was definitely one of them. It has great schools–and we live right behind the elementary school where our kids would theoretically attend classes. It has nearby parks and pools. And it’s a really family-oriented town.
But maybe we don’t want to be so family oriented right now.
DH has been hinting for a while that he’d like to live downtown instead. I saw that as something we would do if infertility treatments don’t work and we’re not likely to have children, or if we won’t have more than one or two kids. We did, after all, build our own house. Which we moved into last June (yes, approximately one month before we received our infertility diagnosis).
We’re all moved in. We ordered cabinets to install in our study (planning to put book shelves above to the ceiling and make it a little library). We just bought new bedroom curtains and bedding to finally get our room done. The only room that hasn’t been finished (or isn’t in the process of being finished) is the nursery–which is empty save for the books that are waiting for the aforementioned bookshelves.
When we moved to our house, we expected to be here for a long time. Long enough, at least, for our kids to go to the school right behind us. Long enough that we would join the church and be able to really get involved for the long term. A long time.
So, of course, if makes perfect sense that today I’m going with DH to look at fancy downtown apartments. And that I expect to spend my Memorial Day weekend getting our house cleaned up so we can put it on the market. It makes perfect sense, right?
It’s not just the commute, though I guess that was the final straw. It’s because we don’t have kids yet. We don’t fit the family-oriented culture. And when we go out, we go downtown. There isn’t really anything here outside of going out to dinner. And while I’ve made some friends and connections here, DH’s co-workers are mostly downtown and neither of us really feels like we have a solid group here.
Yes, we have friends we’ll want to visit. But we’re moving 30 minutes away, not to a different state or anything.
This has been a long time coming. And while I’m not looking forward to renting again, or to leaving my beautiful house, it is a good time to sell. And since the house is pretty new, we don’t have too much work to do to get it ready. We might even make some money on the house, and it will definitely free up the capital we invested, which wouldn’t hurt to have in the bank to help pay for treatments.
And we’ve had amazing support from DH’s mom. When we told her we were thinking about moving, she said that she and DH’s dad had just been talking about how they didn’t think Katy was really the right place for us right now. It was a very nice confirmation that maybe we’re doing the right thing.
But I hate moving. I wish I could wake up and just already be moved. I am a terrible mover. And I’ve never sold a house before, so I’m nervous about that. Thanks in advance for any prayers you can send our way–both that we’re doing the right thing, and for things to go smoothly. I really appreciate it.
Our church offers a mentorship program for women. It’s a six-month deal. You fill out a little card and they pray over you and match you with someone for six months of weekly meetings.
My mentor is wonderful. She’s been through infertility–though her experience was different. And she tells me I’m supposed to talk and she will listen. And she gives me advice. Godly advice.
We meet on Tuesdays at Starbucks near my house. I get a green tea latte. She gets green tea.
Recently, she said something that has changed my perspective.
She said, “You know this already, but this story isn’t just about you and [DH]. It’s about your future children and their spouses. And their children, and the circumstances that need to fit together.”
I didn’t know that already. That thought hadn’t crossed my mind.
And I thought about Sarah and Abraham waiting decades for the fulfillment of a promise. And who knows if they weren’t waiting until Rebecca was about to be born?
She is so right. There are millions of different things that need to come together for our baby to meet up with the right people, to be in the right place, to do the right things.
And what feels like ages is really just the slow ticking by of months. Of weeks. But one week might be the difference between meeting the love of his life and not. One month might be the difference between graduating high school at the right time or not. Who can know but God?
So now we pray a little differently. We pray “in Your timing” and mean it. And we are praying for the circumstances to come together, too.
It’s the second Mother’s Day since we started TTC, but the first since our IF was officially diagnosed.
I’ve kind of been wondering how I would feel today. And I’ve enjoyed some really great blog posts about Mother’s Day and how to be kind to those of us who are waiting or who have suffered miscarriages or who have lost their own mothers. If you’re interested, here are a couple of links I really appreciated in the lead up to today: The Pains of Motherhood, Part 1 (Infertility) and An Open Letter to Pastors {A non-mom speaks about Mother’s Day}.
DH is working today. (He works a shift schedule, though soon he will have a normal M-F schedule again!) I try to go to church even when he’s working, but decided in advance today that I would just watch it instead. Our church has a live webstream of the service. I am glad I stayed home.
I think I could have handled the “all the mothers please stand part.” And the video at the beginning of the sermon with a pregnant mom encouraging her little girl to talk to her soon-to-be baby sister wasn’t too bad. It really had me hoping that someday I would get to experience that–though that would mean two pregnancies and I don’t know how I can wish for that when the chance for one (without medical or miracle interference) is exactly zero.
But the video at the end. That’s when I was really glad I’d stayed home. I sobbed through it. And not sweet, “Oh, bless her heart, she loves her momma” sobs. They were ugly cries.
It’s been a while since I’ve cried like that, and I think I needed it. But I’m glad I didn’t have to share my tears with our congregation.
To all of you who are pregnant or enjoying Mother’s Day with your children today, Happy Mother’s Day. And to those of you who have babies waiting for you in heaven, Happy Mother’s Day. And to my own mom and dear, sweet mother-in-law, I will wish Happy Mother’s Day. And for those of us still waiting–hang in there. Tomorrow is a new day. And who knows what God has in store for us next?
Dwell in Me 