Gratitude

I wrote this post a little while BEFORE my last post but saved it instead of publishing it since it seemed a little personal.  However, after rereading it and my last post (see: "Everywhere"), this post now makes so much more sense in hindsight.  I think it's important to be transparent and share honestly for the sake of growth, both for me and others, so here it is.  If you haven't already, I encourage you to read the other post first.

16......
Some of the hardest days are the days when you know your period is coming.  You begin to get the symptoms that you always get. For each woman it's different.  Mood swings, bloating, cramps, tender breasts, crying.  The signs come in many forms.  But what it does to a woman struggling with fertility is the same.

It's crushing. There's really no other word for it.  You desperately want to cling to the hope that you may still be pregnant. But deep down you know.  You know your body best and can read the writing on the wall.  I often find that in this time I struggle with guilt.  Am I not trusting that God still COULD make me pregnant? Or am I being realistic?  This is truly a emotionally draining fews days, for me at least.

16....
We have been trying to conceive for 16 cycles.   That number shocks even me as I type it.  That means I've gone through this process 15 times. The waiting. The deep-down knowing of the yet unconfirmed.  While I've done it 15 times, and it's tremendously difficult, those days don't last forever.  There's always a new day.  A new chance.  A new lesson.  A new hope.

I recently reconnected with a friend, who suggested a song to me that she felt encouraged by.  It's a song about finding gratitude and hope even in the darkest of moments.  Even in the droughts of our hearts. Even in the sorrow.  The Lord has blessed each and every one of us.  There's a message of hope, forgiveness, rebirth, peace in every situation God has put us in.  While it's ok to feel overwhelmed and cry and not quite understand, it's important to step outside ourselves and see the whole picture He is painting, even if we can't see it right that second.  We should trust that He still has the brush.  Because He IS painting it.  And He isn't finished yet. As Mark Schultz, one of my favorite Christian artists sings, "You never said it would be easy, but You said You'd see me through the storm."
"Send some rain, would You send some rain?

'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again

And the sun is high and we are sinking in the shade

Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?

Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down

Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid

But maybe not, not today

Maybe You'll provide in other ways

And if that's the case . . .

We'll give thanks to You

With gratitude

For lessons learned in how to thirst for You

How to bless the very sun that warms our faceIf You never send us rain"

Emotions can often cloud our perception and objectivity in situations so that we aren't ready to see what God wants us to see.  Or perhaps God uses it to prevent us from seeing a lesson until the timing is right.  Shortly after this post was written, God showed up in a very special way, that was for me and me alone.  He did exactly what I wrote about days earlier:  He showed me how He's still painting. He's still in control.  And for that, I'm eternally grateful.