Chasing Contentment

Thursday, June 9

We have two beautiful children for whom I am endlessly thankful to my Lord. He gave us these amazing beings at exactly the times when we were ready for them, not a moment sooner or later. Almost two years after her birth, I see that Eliza's early arrival just might fall into His plan, too, though I've always laid that at the feet of my guilt. If I assume His timing is perfect and that He has plans I don't know, I should let that guilt go and assume He was controlling her arrival, too.

We take her today to the NICU Developmental Clinic to see if her development is progressing well enough for a baby who arrived in this world seven weeks ahead of schedule. It's one of those things where we are confident her development is on track, and yet, the visit is worrisome. There's always the possibility they will find something we didn't even know to look for, something not so wonderful. I worry this for her, not for us. For us, she is perfect.

I never had any trouble conceiving a child. I had trouble carrying a child. LeeAnn had trouble conceiving but carries beautifully. We've laughed that if we could only find a way to share that load, we could have beautiful, lush pregnancies. Of course, we can't possibly do that physically, but we always did that emotionally. I feel like I understand the pain she went through (the pain other friends have gone through) in trying to conceive the child she wanted so badly. And I know she feels like she understands the pain of leaving a hospital without your child.

I saw an illustration at French Toast Girl earlier this week that spoke to me in such powerful ways that it has stayed with me all week. I've gone back to her site several times to see it again. It's called Envy and I think it's a perfect illustration of the sorrow and heartache and jealousy and rage and weakness associated with wanting something so very badly and not being able to have it.

I've never longed for a baby, ached for one the way some of my friends have. I've never grieved a child I would never carry. But I've longed for other things, other ways of being. I've doubted that I would ever achieve those desires. I've been broken by the need of that longing. I've raged against whatever held me back from attaining my desire. I think we've all - at one point or another - struggled with an emptiness that threatens to consume us.

In seeing friends deal with their individual struggles, I've learned that the thing that most often pulls us from the depths is our faith. The knowledge that there is a God and that He does love us is an incredible balm to our wounds. I am amazed and humbled by watching some of these women - women I'm honored to call friends - put their trust in their faith, in their Lord, day in and day out. I find inspiration in their lives, in their faith. I know that if I put my faith in Christ and I rest in that love, I have a shelter from the storms of life.

[  posted by Chel on Thursday, June 09, 2005  ]


Post a Comment