Rain pelted the windshield as I drove away from the doctor’s office. The raindrops sounded forlorn as they hit the car, echoing the state of my heart. The joy of a positive pregnancy test had ended in the grief of another miscarriage.
Grief, fear, and anger vied for first place inside of me. Grief at the loss, fear that we would never have children, anger at the unfairness of it all. And sadness, overwhelming sadness covered all of me in a hopeless fog.
Our tenth wedding anniversary was approaching. A decade of waiting, of hosting baby showers for other people. Ten years of all the questions people feel the freedom to ask.
I had a question of my own. What if it never happens?
Alone in the car I heard Him whisper. Trust Me.
What if we celebrate our 20th anniversary childless?
Trust Me.
What if you don’t give what I want so badly?
Trust Me.
The majority of the ten years had been filled with similar versions of this conversation. Me, anxious and ranting. God, patiently reminding me to trust Him through His Word and, in a few quiet moments, by whispering hope into my heart.
In one of those moments I sat in an empty chapel between seminary classes, feeling utterly helpless. As I prayed, I began to feel a calm assurance that I would have a baby. I can’t really explain it, but I felt like God had given me a promise.
That calm assurance eroded as years passed and negative pregnancy tests piled up. But God kept saying Trust me.
After the doctor’s visit I stood in the baby section of Walmart, holding a mint-green onesie, wondering if I’d ever hold a baby of my own.
Buy it.
“What for? I don’t need it.” (My tone might have been a little bitter.)
Buy it and remember My promises.
I bought it, wrote His promises on sticky notes and put them on the onesie. They were the same verses I’d written in my journals many times over the years.
Each time I walked by, this outfit reminded me to trust. I read the verses after negative pregnancy tests. I read them on days when the ache to be a mama overwhelmed me.
I still ranted at times, but I also slowly began to trust. I began to trust that He would grant me the desire to be a mother in His time, and I began to accept that it would be in whatever capacity He chose.
As I trusted, the Lord began showing me that I was holding this desire of having a baby too tightly and ignoring the blessings that already filled my life. I was convinced that having a baby would make my life complete. But as I loosened my grasp, I realized that my life was made complete by trusting what God had for me in the moment at hand, and all the moments after.
The Lord did keep His promises, over and above. He has fulfilled my desire to be a mother through my three children and through being involved with French Camp Academy, a Christian boarding school for children from difficult home situations.
And that green onesie? It’s gotten plenty of wear over the years. Holding my babies as they wore that outfit gave me a very tangible reminder of God’s faithfulness, His provision, and His trustworthiness.
I still need that reminder, because on the other side of the promise of being a mom, my focus still has to be on trusting Him in the moment at hand, and all the moments after.
Great job on this article! I got lost in it applying it to my own life on whether or not I’m trusting Him during this oh so very difficult blessing of being a parent.