She met me with a warm hug, but her smile looked like
a weak cup of decaf. As we pulled out the coffee shop
chairs, we eased into them and started talking through
her story with tears.
She was walking through a very painful chapter in her
story called Infertility, and the uncertainty and
darkness were stealing her joy and faith.
I knew her pain.
In the middle of a full coffee shop, we sat there
feeling the weight of emptiness. We made space for
her pain and grief, and talked about her desire to do
exactly what God says to do: Be fruitful and multiply.
Wasn’t having children what He asked of her? Then
why hadn’t He made a way? Why did her body feel so
broken?
These are all questions I faced grappling with a few
years earlier.
My Story
My husband and I rode an emotional rollercoaster to
arrive at each baby—sometimes white-knuckling it and
screaming, other times with our hands up, full of faith
and worship. We struggled through four and a half
years of infertility.
Yes, I include the half because each month counts.
And then our last baby was conceived on the first try.
All of it remains mysterious to me.
Infertility is a desert. And when I was in it, I would
read about God’s faithfulness, His goodness, His
hearing our prayers. But I saw very little of it.
Every part of my life felt dry. Cracked. Lifeless. Each
month when my period came, it felt like a funeral. Life
was leaving my body when all I wanted was for it to
stay. And grow. And become a soul.
And now, just a few years later, I tuck three children in
at night (though one is taller than me now, and tucking
him in is more like a sweet and awkward goodnight
hug). My life is a full rodeo show of amazing humans.
And all you may see is a girl who got what she
wanted. But I want you to also see a girl whose faith
was as thin as the pages of her Bible . A girl who
wrestled with hopes and dreams. A girl who didn’t
know what to do with all the feelings she had each
time a friend announced a pregnancy—of joy and
jealousy, of pain and pleasure, of love and longing—all
wrapped up in one heart.
I’m with you, sister. I have zero promises about how
your hopes and dreams will turn out.
What I do have is 5 encouraging reminders that I hope
will bring you comfort.
- God Is with You in the Desert
How often I forget that not only was God with Jesus in
the desert, but He actually led him there: “Then Jesus
was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted
by the devil,” ( Matthew 4:1 ).
God had this part of Jesus’ story written out; He
shepherded His Son right into that space.
In fact, many others had gone before Jesus into dark
places because God was doing something purposeful
through them. But all the while, God never abandoned
them.
Think of Moses. When asked to confront Pharaoh, God
said to him, I will be with you. Joshua, stood at the
edge of an entirely new territory and God said, I am
with you.
Remember Joseph? Left for dead by his own brothers.
Jailed for two years. Forgotten. But he looked back
and saw that God was with him, working out the evil
plans set against him for good.
And of course, David. When he walked through the
valley of the shadow of death, as Psalm 23 says,
David remembered that God was with him.
Let this fact seep into your bones: God is with you,
even when you can’t feel Him. - Your Lack of Faith Is Not Keeping You Infertile
A few people suggested that it may be due to my lack
of faith that I was not conceiving.
Listen, sister, I believed God could do anything,
including giving us children.
Some days my belief was the size of a mustard seed,
but I believed. Other days I felt like I could move
Mount Everest with my faith. And still I held no babies.
Any amount of faith we have is a gift from God
anyway. As Paul says, “It is by grace you have been
saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it
is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can
boast,” ( Ephesians 2:8-9 ).
You can certainly ask for an increase of faith, but do
not let anyone tell you that your lack of faith has kept
you infertile. God’s plan is greater than your
understanding, and He sees your mustard-seed faith in
the middle of the unknown.
It is not about you and your faith. It is about God and
His plan. God loves our faith, and He also has perfect
timing. - God Tenderly Collects Our Tears
“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected
all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each
one in your book,” ( Psalm 56:8 , NLT).
Something is to be said of a God who notices every
single thing about our life. As the psalmist writes, God
collects all of our tears, records them, and keeps track
of them.
They are precious to Him. He made you. He loves you.
He cares for you and your journey and your heartache
and your tears. He is not letting your tears fall to the
ground; He is gathering them up and storing them. He
sees you, dear one.
You and your precious tears do not go unnoticed. - For Now Is Not Forever
A dear friend and counselor recently said to me in her
sweet way, “Amy, no feeling or circumstance is
permanent.” That is good news, especially for those
who are suffering.
This reinforces a thought from my friend Barb, who
says, “For now is not forever.” Amen.
Sunrises break through dark nights; blooms come from
buried seeds; resurrections come out of graves.
Look back and think about your life. You have walked
through some incredibly hard things, but you are not
there anymore. You survived them, and you are
stronger for it.
You have gone through training and growth and are
now standing on the other side. I am willing to bet
God did something incredible in you, as He did with His
son. I take great comfort that Jesus is not on the
cross anymore. He is risen, indeed. - Goodness and Mercy Will Come Out of This
Psalm 23:6 says, “Surely goodness and mercy shall
follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in
the house of the LORD forever,” (ESV). Could it
possibly be that this desert has goodness in it,
following you? And mercy trailing behind?
The crazy thing about the goodness of God is that it is
often forged through pain and valleys and deserts and
dark nights. Darkness was a part of Jesus’ story.
And if we are going to follow Christ and be identified
and crucified with Him, then through the desert we go.
Jesus went through the ultimate valley of death—and
goodness and mercy followed close behind.
The Resurrection came three days later. And He now
dwells in the house of the Lord forever.
Dearest sister, may these reminders be exactly what
you need today, quenching your thirst in the middle of
a dry land.
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