Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Crying in the car and notes on waiting.

When I was reading Cold Tangerines (or possibly Bittersweet, I can't remember which one) there was a chapter where she talked crying in the bathroom.  She talked about the yearning and longing for a baby and how each month that passed with no baby resulted in tears in her bathroom.  Truthfully, though I don't typically cry in the bathroom, I cried when I read this chapter. I cried because I understood her tears as my own tears.  My tears just fall in a different place.  My crying happens in the car on the way to work or on the way home from work.  Or sometimes, on dark days, both ways.  The house is very busy at home (thankfully) with two working parents and an active toddler so my brain doesn't get much time to let my thoughts wander.  But I have a 30 minute commute to work and often times that is where my tears flow. 

We have started trying for another baby and just thinking about another baby can make me cry.  And now, each month that passes without a positive test at the end of it leads to several car rides full of tears.  I begin to doubt and worry and despair that we will never be able to grow our family.

Last month was an exceptionally tricky month.  Our first miscarried baby was due.  A date that came and went for many, but left an empty place in my heart for several days.  And then in a matter of three days I had four friends deliver beautiful, healthy, delicious babies.  Four adorable babies covering my facebook feed when we should have been bringing our own baby home.  And then I started my period, meaning no new baby still.  To say it was a rough week would be like putting a bandaid on a severed limb to stop the bleeding.

But then I started a new reading plan through She Reads Truth.  The Songs of Ascent.  Oh did I need this plan at this time.  On the first day they just had us read through Psalm 120-134, just to take it all in.  I stopped in my tracks when I got to Psalm 130.

Psalm 130

A song of ascents.

1 Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;
2 Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy.
3 If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,
Lord, who could stand?
4 But with you there is forgiveness,
so that we can, with reverence, serve you.
5 I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
6 I wait for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.
7 Israel, put your hope in the Lord,
for with the Lord is unfailing love
and with him is full redemption.
8 He himself will redeem Israel
from all their sins.
I will wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. 
I probably read that verse 10 times as it met me right where I am.  I am waiting.  A thing I am rarely good at.  Waiting feels like the opposite of planning, and while I am not a total type A planner in most areas of my life, when it comes to babies I am a planner all the way.  I check Baby Center each month to see what the due date would be if we were to get pregnant that month.  Then I start planning how we would tell our families.  I start planning when we could host a gender reveal party, depending on what time of year it is.  I start to calculate how old Lucy will be and feel a gripping on my heart as she continues to get older with no baby in sight when I had PLANNED on my babies being much closer in age.
I will wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.
Waiting feels like the opposite of doing.  It feels like I am letting life happen to me instead of being an active participant in it.  In waiting, there is no control.  None.  How am I supposed to plan my life with no control?  And so I read it again.
I will wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.
Hope.  In him.  It starts to come together for me.  I remind myself over and over that I am not in control.  I remind myself that when I give up my tight grip on my plans, I can rest assured that God's plans are far better than my own.  And so I wait. I wait with my whole being.  I wait for that sweet baby to be in my arms.  I wait with my hope in Him.  Waiting is the ultimate test in patience.
I am reminded of a scene from Evan Almighty where Morgan Freeman (God)  is talking to Evan's wife.  She had given up on her husband at that point in the movie, but Morgan Freeman asked her a really poignant question.  "If you are praying to God for patience do you think God gives you patience, or an opportunity to be patient?  If you are praying for a closer relationship with your family do you think he zaps you with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give you an opportunity to be closer to your family?" (this is paraphrased but I have included a link to the clip below).
I may not have prayed specifically for patience, but through my prayers it became clear that I needed to work on who I put my hope and trust in.  I feel like so much of my life is about waiting right now and I truly believe God is telling me that my wait may be long, but good.  And so, even through my tears and long car rides to and from work, I will put my trust in him.  I will wait, with my whole being knowing that I don't have to know anything more that his true, deep, abiding love for me.  He is unfailing in love and full of redemption. I will wait.  I will put my trust in him.  And I will be thankful.
And then, because I think Mumford and Sons is a truly genius band....I listen to what feels like my theme song at this point in life, I Will Wait.

1 comment:

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