Sunday, August 4, 2013

tomorrow

Tomorrow is another day, but unlike all the rest, it was the day we were given to expect our number two.  I can't ignore it or pretend it doesn't feel a bit like a robbery of hope gone from my  arms before it was to be held.  The other babies have all come and even as my heart fills with joy, my breath catches in my chest and it feels like a weight I don't know how to bear.

I grieve, not everyday, but I still find myself surprised by the pain that surfaces over things I didn't expect.  I am reminded often of the prayer of Habakkuk the prophet:

17 Though the fig tree should not blossom,
    nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
    and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
    and there be no herd in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
    I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
19 God, the Lord, is my strength;
    he makes my feet like the deer's;
    he makes me tread on my high places.

A year ago, as we celebrated  our anniversary (early) and began the journey of continuing to grow our family - we could not have foreseen all that would unfold and the ground we would be standing on today.  I never imagined, even in my fear, that we would not have a baby right now.  I have certainly not been the picture of perfect peace and acceptance as we have walked this road, but by God's grace I am moving to that place.  My once tightly closed fists have loosened and on my better days are open hands, ready to receive whatever the Lord chooses to give.  

Tomorrow will come, the "baby room" is empty, everything stashed in the closet I hate to look in.  But, even through the 'emptiness' of tomorrow - there is still joy.  Joy that God has been abundant in blessing my family, even when it wasn't what I wanted.  Joy that his perfect love can drive out fear.  Joy that He is victorious over death and pain and tears.  Joy that our wonderful friends get to celebrate their daughter's 1st birthday - she is their miracle baby.

I guess the hope and the joy I've experienced, especially over the last 7 months - it is that which none can steal or destroy.  It is easy to hope when you get exactly what you wanted, but what about when it is stolen away or out of your reach?  Well, that journey of hope for me has been painful, but what remains is joy and strength - belief in the character of God.  Even when the fig doesn't blossom, when there is no fruit, when the fields are empty, when the flock is lost, and the herd missing.  Even then, joy can come in the morning and hope rise with the dawn.