Perfect Peace

So, as you may have guessed, I did not get happy news just under four weeks ago.  TOM came, and I was wrecked.  So, we started another round of Clomid, and prepared for another IUI.  This time, I felt like I was back on the first round two years ago.  Zits and a three-day-long headache made things wonderful.  And then, short STABBING pains in the vicinity of my ovaries the entire week before ovulation.

But then the smiley face appeared, and it was time to drive the hour and a half to the clinic.  This time the experience was so much nicer.  Instead of it being a doctor I had never met injecting me with my husband’s swimmers, this time it was a nurse.  And a nurse who understood my type A tendencies/neuroses at that!  So not only did she have the general “nurse” demeanor (explaining everything as it goes along), but she went out to retrieve my chart and spent a good ~10 minutes discussing everything with me.  I left feeling so much more comfortable and relaxed than I have in months.  And the amazing thing?  That peace has continued even now.

I should be freaking out this week.  Here it is Monday, and my period is due Friday.  I should be absolutely neurotic.  But I’m not.  I’m calm and comfortable and on an even keel.  It’s nice; it’s refreshing.  I don’t know if it’s because I have more knowledge from the clinic, or if it’s because I have intentionally been so busy the last few weeks, or if I’ve just been given an extra dose of peace.  All I know is, I thank God daily for the lack of crazy in my life right now.

A Crisis of Faith

It may be simplistic to say that it has been a trying week.  Perhaps, it would be more appropriate to say it's been an extremely emotional week.  I've already explained some of the craziness, but I have to say the craziness has continued.

I have been in Minneapolis for work since Sunday afternoon, and let me just say, I was so grateful to be intermittently distracted by the conference...

I know it was entirely too early, but I decided to test on Monday anyways - just in case.  When I got the negative, honestly, it was no big deal.  After all, I KNEW it was too early.  But then yesterday happened, and all my peace and composure flew out the window.  One of my dearest and sweetest friends has been struggling with different issues with getting - and staying pregnant.  Last week a preliminary ultrasound showed some cause for concern yet again.  I have been praying nonstop for God to bless her and to miraculously place a baby where there appeared there was none.  She had another ultrasound yesterday, and she sent me the picture of the teeny tiny precious child.  I can't explain it; I was so excited that it was there, and I was so happy that this amazing woman was going to be a mother.  But I was also instantly broken and hysterical.  I can't help but wonder yet again: what about me?  Why doesn't God want ME to have a baby?  Will I ever have my own little one?  Why not me?  

I just wanted to indulge in a little self-pity, but at the same time, I hated myself for it.  What kind of a person turns happy news into a pity party?  What kind of a person takes someone else's joy and converts it into some twisted, perverse despair?

And then, this morning, another completely unrelated newsletter arrived in my email inbox - this one from Guideposts.  This week's Mysterious Ways story?  Yeah, it was about a woman who had spent two years in fertility treatment and was expecting her own little miracle now.  I have to be honest, my first thoughts were to lash out at God.  Was He really trying to encourage me, or was He truly just a cruel trickster that loved to play with my heart?  Again, I made it about me and my own pain.

Then again, I began to think back over the last few weeks.  I began to remember God's own messages to me about His identity.  Did I really think Him cruel?  No.  Did I really think it in His character to carelessly play with my heart?  No.  The reality check brought with it the reminders from this very week about how much He does truly care for me.  This conference has buoyed me with new friendships, new knowledge, and a whole lot of laughter.  It also brought the healing balm of the love of old friends.  At my very lowest over the last several days, He never left me there.  There was always someone there at the exact right time.  I hurt, and my heart broke.  But the pieces didn't scatter.  My loving Father was always ensuring that someone was there to collect them.  And THAT realization is what has gotten me through this latest crisis of faith.  No matter what happens this week, I know He will continue to carry me through - even if I may not see it at first.

Who do you say that I am?

Well, howdy there!  Did ya miss me?  I have missed you.  In fact, I've found myself looking back at old entries quite a bit over the last month or so.  I decided if I was going to look back, I might as well also start looking forward and start blogging again, especially with everything that's been swirling in my brain lately.

Most notably, have you ever felt like God gives you a "word"?  Something that He spends days, weeks, or months teaching you and drilling into your head?  Something meant just for you?

The word of the day today was "identity."  It all started when I opened my devotional book to today's scripture - Mark 8:27-30.  

The most important part, at least to me?  Verse 29:  He said to them,  “But who do you say that I am?” 

The hubby and I have been talking a lot about children again, specifically, trying again.  We went to see a fertility specialist in the city, and she ran all the old tests again.  This time, though, nothing came up as off or abnormal.  Nothing.  On either of our parts.  Which tell me, if it's not happening, there's only one reason:  God is closing my womb for a reason.  And I really don't know what to feel about that.  I don't know if I feel angry (sometimes), hurt (sometimes), disillusioned (often), or simply lost (also often).

"But who do you say that I am?”

My cousin is having a baby shower this Friday, and I can't skip it.  Obviously, she's my cousin, but we're also very close.  She has wanted children as long as I can remember.  She suffered through a failed marriage, some health issues, and now her current husband's health is precarious; but she was able to conceive and carry a child.  Even knowing everything she's been through, I still find myself jealous - jealous that her insurance covers IVF, jealous that she will have a little boy in just a few short months, even jealous of her morning sickness.  Don't get me wrong:  I am overjoyed that she is pregnant.  Like I said, she has ALWAYS wanted a child.  But part of me is a little green, nonetheless.

"But who do you say that I am?”

I say that my God is all-powerful.  He created worlds and separated dry land from seas.  He is also full of wrath.  He wiped the face of the earth with floodwaters; He stormed through the temple with anger; He condemns men to burn forever in the lake of fire.  He is also holy.  He cannot abide sin.  He does not allow mistakes or bad judgement in His presence.  He demands perfection.

But you know what?  I also say that my God is a God of love.  He created the perfect partner to man - from man - simply so that he wouldn't be alone.  He rescued His people time and again from slavery.  He blessed the tender hearts of a queen who would stand up to her husband on behalf of her people and a widow who had no way to provide for herself or her mother-in-law.  He is also merciful.  How easy would it have been to wipe out two human beings and just start over?  Instead he butchered an animal to cover their sins and allowed them live.  My God is also a giving God.  He provides whatever we need, even sending His own Son to die horribly to preserve the opportunity for us to spend our eternal lives with Him.  Finally, my God is a God with a plan.  He always works His plan out in His people - maybe not in their time or to their liking - but it always happens.  He is in control.  I am no exception to that rule, and for that, I am thankful.

My Child

God has been teaching me peace over the last two weeks.  I last posted in a state of despair.  I was feeling so alone and forgotten.  And that's right where God met me.  He took my breaking heart and held it because I was no longer able to hold it myself.  Amazingly enough, He has been my portion.  Yeah, I know, I should have known that quite a long time ago, right?  Why is it so easy to forget?

This weekend - as I previously mentioned - was Women of Faith in Pittsburgh.  While it wasn't particularly refreshing or revelatory as I had hoped, it was a time of confirmation, of reassurance.  And it was a time of enlightenment.  There are many ways to be a "mother."  Obviously, you can become pregnant and carry a child to term.  There is always the option of adoption.  There is also the opportunity to be a "mother" figure.  I have a child, if only in my heart.  There is an organization called World Vision through which my husband and I are sponsoring a child.  We do not know if it is a boy or a girl or how old he/she is, but we do know the child is from Guatemala and desperately needs our support.  This, then, is my heart-child.  We will "meet" him or her in approximately six weeks, but until then, our prayers will carry this little one to heaven's throne. 

I pray my praises will also reach heaven's ears, for God is doing a new thing in my heart.  He has sent me peace.  I know in my soul that He is in control, and I rest in His embrace.  For that, may my words be as incense as this song exhibits: