Nearly two months ago, the night sky had grown dark and the cold air set in as I watched from a hospital window the pre-Christmas bustle. It seemed my world had screeched to a sudden halt as the rest of the town went about business as usual. The clock on the wall seemed to tick away each passing minute more slowly than the last. With despair gripped around my throat like I’d never before known, I played spectator to my husband’s pain; to what seemed in those moments a losing battle.
Today, his pain is gone; the mending more full than I could have anticipated in the cloak of that dark night. Yet, at times my feet feel stuck in the anxiety of those moments. I’ve heard it said, “The loss of a spouse is also the loss of an entire lifestyle.” And that is exactly where my mind races; to a place where it feels my entire world is hung in the balance beneath a cracked glass ceiling about to shatter. Still there are others when life, all but a little pink pill, feels as if normal was never suspended.
From a medical standpoint, healing has occurred; the treatment and future plan successful. Yet, in my mind I have rehearsed over and over what it would have been to come home to an empty house. I’ve cried in my husband’s embrace at the thought of being void of it. I’ve struggled to breathe at the weight that could have been settled on my heart and on my shoulders. Living in my greatest fear felt far too close to reality.
At times, it was merely necessary to process this catastrophic event.
At others, I played the victim.
I’ve heard the advice. So many who love me have shared their wisdom, continually check in on me and prayed with me. They have insisted it’s okay to not be okay. Yet when you forget an event you planned or show up without a gift to a baby shower at the same time you realize you sent your son empty handed to a birthday party, or no matter how hard you try you still can’t seem to arrive anywhere on time because of the muck you’re trudging through just to get moving, life feels uncontrollable. There comes a time on the darkest of days when all the well-meaning words of others fail to hit the mark. Until God, with pin-point accuracy breaks through the barricade and with a single breath gives life to every word needed to penetrate this heart left spinning in the turmoil.
See the events of that day, that so many have walked away from unscathed, set in motion a war waged on my mind. A war in which I wasn’t ready to engage. Yet a war I have already been equipped to fight because I am a daughter of the King.
I won’t apologize for these past couple months. I refuse to own the shame the enemy tries to heap on my head. I needed to trudge through the muck of these days and weeks to come out on the other side stronger. No well-meaning words could change that. I won’t deny the enemy’s tactics to bury a heart of joy in a riddle mess of anxiety. I won’t deny there were days he succeeded. I will, however, continue to get up. I will choose this day and the next and the next to consciously, intently, rehearse the blessings rather than the curses. I will choose to remember whose I am and who I’ve been named in Christ. And I will choose to practice joy instead of the heartache.
I will fight.
It may have seemed I played the role of spectator to the pain, but make no mistake, the crisis happened to me too. Yet like a pounding of the drum, I can sense the shadow of that dark night lifting. The dawn is breaking with every step made in confident surrender to my Father’s will, rather than my own agenda. And as I align my heart with my Savior’s, drawing close to Him and He to me, I have no doubt my God fights in my stead. Though, sometimes fighting looks a lot more like being still: Still in heart, to trust He is moving. Still in soul, knowing the ultimate victory is already won. Still in mind, rehearsing the scripture’s truths. And still in prayer; praying until something happens.
Today, if you are stuck in the muck of life’s circumstances, the dark of night enveloping you in what seems a never-ending battle, I would love the privilege to pray for you; to pray with you. Comment below or send me a message.
I’ll be honest: My heart longs to give you all these great words of wisdom and passages of scripture; to encourage you, to exhort you to get back up and keep going. But the truth is, I know at times we have to walk through the drudgery to come out on the other side, holding no one’s hand but the Savior’s. No well meaning words of advice can change that because it isn’t about a list of to-dos to get you moving forward. It’s day-by-day, moment-by-moment, choice-by-choice relationship with the Creator God who went to painstaking lengths to reach you. To reach me.
He won’t leave us in our mess if we will Keep. Getting. Up.
As for this adoption…
Wow. At this point in the journey I have carried in my heart – be it weeks or days or only hours – nine little ones who have (almost all) been placed in a family other than our own. At times we’ve had three or even four different situations arise at the same time. Our profile books handed out to several expectant mamas/parents at once. And in numbers I, personally, grow more confident one of them will be ours. When one-by-one the “No”‘s rolled in, I prayed for wisdom and peace. Just as the Lord gave me the sentiment to ask for the child destined for our arms to leap for joy in his/her mother’s womb at the sight of our profile book, He has given me the reminder oh so often, it only takes one yes.
And so, at this moment we are left but one opportunity. But it only takes one. This family perusing our profile book, at least from the pool of what we’ve seen, is unique in that they have already named their baby boy due early this summer. For those of you aware of my prenatal depression, in order to ground myself in the reality I was experiencing, I needed my babies to be named even in utero. They needed to be called more than “it” or “the baby” for my mind to comprehend the life growing in my womb. And they also needed names that had a solid meaning speaking purpose over their lives. So the fact this baby boy is named, does something extra special to my heart. But even beyond that, the name itself, not only has personal ties to our family but it also means “Wise” and “Who is like God?”
Even though I get excited when I selfishly think of all the ways this could be the one, I’m not suggesting it is. This precious family is taking their time making a decision that will be right for baby Q and I will celebrate whatever path they choose for their son. I’m praying wisdom over their situation; clarity and confidence of mind to rest in the direction they choose. But I’m also praying that if this is our time to get the call that baby Q would leap for joy every time his mama turns her eyes to our profile book.
Will you PUSH – Pray Until Something Happens – with us for baby Q?