My sweet boy! I can hardly believe that he is over a year old. It's like he was born and the fast forward button was hitting. Everything in me wants to sing "slow down" to him...
His joy is unhindered. He isn't afraid to let his giggles escape as I hold him in my arms. He isn't afraid to do a quick little step - an almost-run. He isn't afraid to climb in red planes by himself. In these moments when I step back, I find myself remembering how we longed for this sweet boy.
I remember telling Jesus that I just wanted to see my child run through the grass. Since Daniel gave up crawling and traded it for a very slow jog, it has brought all of the emotions to the surface. My faith is becoming sight. Yet the process of learning to see isn't so simple. My faith being transformed from blindness to sight has been agonizing at times.
I found myself on the floor again with big sobs. I had just walked out of the bathroom and couldn't make it to the bed before the tears stole my breath. The floor was more comforting to me than any bed and I couldn't have walked there anyway. I ached. My bones hurt. I wanted to give up hope. I wanted to stop hopingfor a baby.
I didn't want to face anyone on those days. I didn't want anyone else to know what I knew - there was still no baby. I was afraid that people would look into my eyes, grieve with me, and that their grief would break me. You should have seen the pain in my husband's eyes as I asked him to make a trip to the store for tampons. You should have seen my friends' eyes as I asked for tampons over the months. You should have seen the grief that flickered across their face. My heart shattered at their realization that I was still in the not yet.
My bones died.
If you're struggling with infertility, you're not alone. I understand the ache of your heart but more importantly, Jesus does. The Bible tells us that when we don't have words - when we don't know how to pray - the Spirit groans.
For all I know, my infertility journey isn't over. But I also know that my motherhood journey isn't over yet, either. I'm holding to the promises that He has made to our family. I want you to do that, too.
And I can hear your next question: What has Jesus even promised me as far as a baby goes? Jesus just doesn't speak to me.
That hurt reaches down into the same child-longing place, doesn't it? But by the time we even have the courage to ask if Jesus would be willing to speak to us, we have gone numb. Go un-numb, friend.
I was asking Jesus this exact thing: "Lord, am I telling them wrong? Am I saying that you want to speak to them when really you just reserve that for certain people?" For years I have told people that Jesus wants to speak to them. Years. A lot of years. Here was His response: "I died for them. I want to speak to them."
Jesus wants to speak to you about your heart's desire to have children.
We don't have to have the words when our hearts hurt. No matter what the hurt is, He is the one who sweeps us into our arms, cheek to cheek, and loves us. If you have longed for a child or lost a child, I want you to know that He is with you.
When Jesus first told me to share my infertility story (1 month before I got pregnant), I was excited and hesitant. "But Lord, you have promised a child to me. How can I share my story? What about the women who have never been able to have children?" I burst into tears and my body shook with grief. That's the story of one of my closest friends. I cried. "Jordan, this isn't about the outcome for them. This is about the relationship."
Those can be hard words to hear when you're in the middle of infertility, but those are His words and so they're good. I want you to know that I'm sitting on the other side of the screen crying with you. My heart aches that you aren't holding your baby.
It's all broken. All of it. I don't believe this is the way it was supposed to be. But the whole earth and everything in it was broken when sin made its grand entrance. And now all of creation waits.
On the day that He comes back, our tears won't remain. On that day we will shout His name. On that day He will make right what was made wrong through sin.
I want you to know that your tears are seen and your sobs are heard by the One who carries your heart. He doesn't just shoulder the burden. He comes alongside you and lifts the burden off of you. Turn to the One who is able to do the impossible and speak life into dead bones.
Yes, turn to Jesus who speaks life into dead bones. Let Him lift the burden so that you can come undone. Let Him shine light through the broken places and bring life where there was death.