A Psalm a Day...

Weather does some strange things to me. Warm, sunny days make me feel bright and happy...cloudy dreary days make me feel, well, cloudy and dreary. Now rainy days...that's a little different story. Even with the clouds, I wouldn't say I'm completely dreary...maybe more introspective is the right word. And then add in the elements of both rain and cold and you might as well just forget about it. Introspective would be waaay too light of a word...it upgrades to somewhat brooding status. Well, that is if "brooding" means my brain is in overdrive.

I find myself there today...the mood fitting the forecasted weather. DW was on the road earlier this afternoon for work and I text him the following: "I'm really struggling right now with how to be hopeful about our future instead of fearful. I'm not sure how to surrender completely to God's timing." Soon after, I get a response from him: "I just read Psalm 25 and it gave me more hope. Love you, Bud!" I reach over to the coffee table, grab my Bible, and begin to read. When I get to Psalm 25:15-17 my heart begins to beat a little bit faster and I feel some of the anxiety in my chest begin to melt away.

My eyes are ever on the Lord, for only he will release my feet from the snare. (v. 15)

I find myself acutely aware of the fact that though my infertility has been the source of many tears and much heartache, it has kept my eyes "ever on the Lord". I've also learned that while medicine is good and has it's place...it's not the sure thing. Doctor after doctor has tried to help us attain pregnancy and time again we've found ourselves in the same place. The good in this struggle with infertility, I've found, is that I will never take for granted the gift it is to decide that you want a family and to be able to have one. I also have a compassion and an understanding of emotions I could have never understood had I not had to walk this road. I hope that one day if - or when - I actually do become pregnant, I'll never forget the agony of longing to be a mother. I hope that God keeps this ache inside clearly burned on my heart so that I can use my story for his glory.

The verse continued:

Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted. The troubles of my heart have multiplied. Free me from my anguish. (v. 16 & 17)

As I read these words earlier and now read them again, I find myself feeling soothed, comforted...God is not a stranger to my heartache. Time after time, month after month He has his reasons for making me wait...and time after time, month after month I find myself asking: When? Days like this I find that one minute I am surrendering these fears and impatient emotions and then, seconds later, I'm right back on the same (negative) train of thought. Over and over I surrender to Him...and I wonder if He ever gets tired of having me push, pull, prod for answers only to shake it off and say seconds later, never mind, I know you've got this under control.

DW, I've learned, is a man with great discernment...one of his many great qualities but definitely one of my favorites. I've often thought that the path I was travelling down was the right one...only to have him ask me to look at it a little differently. There have been times where he has offered this counsel and I quickly saw the error of my ways...but more often than not, I've had to learn the hard way. Apparently, that's something I was born with because my Dad and Mom like to remind me that one of my earliest phrases was "I do it all by myself." Ironic, really. The one thing I crave more than anything in this world is the one thing I can't do by myself. I can't make my body whole...only He can.

Anyway, back to what I was saying about DW: because he so often has great insight, I've learned his wisdom can save me a lot of grief. There have been several times he's told me "I've just got a feeling" and I trust those words. I really think he has a God-given gift of discernment. Often, being the thinker/feeling/hoper/dreamer that I am, I try encourage him to have "the feeling" when I want it to fit my way. Did you get your feeling? I'll ask, hopeful about this or that, and he'll usually smile and say, "Sorry, Bud...not this time." A while ago, he told me that whenever he thinks about our hope for children, his feeling in his gut never tells him the answer is "no", only "not yet." On the worst days, I try to put my faith in God's awesome power, first and foremost, but when I need a little something extra I always try to remind myself that the answer isn't no...

...only not yet.