The most uncomfortable place to be—not knowing what lies ahead.
This time of year I scroll through social media and see post after post—new haircuts, new outfits, loaded backpacks, and furnished dorm rooms. Evidence of plans working out for other people and their families. Two years ago, a brief phone call from my doctor confirmed what I feared and I watched my plans crumble before my very eyes. These past couple years have been emotionally rocky but, at times, healing.
In the midst of planning, I’ve learned how to not throw my heart into those plans. Was this wrong? Only time would tell. I guess this was a way of protecting myself. Yet this still landed me in a place of fear and anxiety at times. I found myself asking what will this next season hold?
When Jesus says He is a lamp to our feet, that provides just enough light to see the next step. Our vision is limited and it can be frustrating to not know more than one step. It doesn’t matter how well I plan or how far back I hold my heart, not knowing what lies around the bend in the road is a very uncomfortable place to be in life.
“Hello, this is Emerson, returning your phone call.” The voice was welcoming and kind. I had been playing phone tag with her for several weeks. She was calling from the local adoption agency. I scurried around, trying to find a pen. Why isn’t there EVER a pen when I need one!? I grabbed a picnic promotional flyer from my church and flipped it over to scratch out the date and time to meet with Emerson. We were finally ready. Ready to take the first step towards adoption.
Why has it been so hard to get to this place of peace? Why has it taken so long for my heart to catch up? I was the one holding my heart back. I had just assumed I would get pregnant right away when we first started trying—because that’s just what happens. I was told you have sex, you get pregnant. Well, I had sex, I didn’t get pregnant. Again and again and again. I threw my heart into it every single cycle. My heart was bruised and battered. My hope was crushed and shattered. Before I could recover, I was broken with excruciating anguish again by a lonely line. When I was done trying to conceive naturally, my husband was still holding out hope. When he was ready to move on to the next option, I questioned whether or not my heart would truly bond with a child I didn’t grow inside of me.
Asking God to change my heart has been one of the most difficult prayers I have ever prayed. Most of the time I was praying for God to change our circumstance…I was viewing adoption as God’s “No.” Adoption is a wonderful gift. It’s a chance for something extra. More than we could have ever asked for. It’s a beautiful blessing beyond the answer to my prayers. Am I staking more hope in this than I should? Maybe. But maybe God wants my heart all in, because as I have been crushed along the way in the TTC lifestyle, those are the points when God has been able to mold me into the person He wants me to be.
So, while others have exciting pictures to share
on three different social media apps of their plans working out; a child entering the next stage of education, or another growing bump. I find myself at a place where I cannot see around the bend ahead. If I let myself slip into a tunnel vision of fear and anxiety, I will miss the beauty along the way. There will be difficult times, but maturity and strength can shine through the broken places.
“For You are great and do wondrous things; You alone are God. Teach me Your way, O Lord, that I may walk in Your truth; unite my heart to fear Your name. I give thanks to You, O Lord my God, with my whole heart, and I will glorify Your name forever. For great is Your steadfast love toward me; You have delivered my soul from the depths of Sheol.” Psalm 86:10-13