I found this image on a site one day as I was surfing the internet in search of comfort, answers, and hope. When I saw it, I saved it in my "adoption" folder on the computer and figured I would come back to it someday. The simple sentence on the plain black background struck me. It's so simple, yet so very powerful.
The journey of infertility is filled with so many different emotions that sometimes it's all I can do to keep it all together. The most frequent emotion throughout this path for me is difficult to pinpoint, but 'pain' is up there among the top few words that come to mind.
I am not usually someone who cries "it's not fair" or wonders "why me" - but I can't say that those thoughts don't creep into my mind or that I don't have to pray every single day that God will continue to keep those thoughts from my mind and heart.
The other night after everyone in my house was asleep, I was spending some time reading a book a dear friend graciously gave to me called
Hannah's Hope by Jennifer Saake when the most beautiful words jumped off the page at me. These are the words I have worked to put together for the past 3 years and they somehow managed to heal a small piece of the pain I'm carrying from this journey.
"While it is indeed a road less traveled, this winding way of childlessness was one I did not choose to tread. I often limped along this uphill trail, kicking and fighting my way through the dense underbrush of discouragement. But through the journey, God provided green pastures where my aching soul could draw comfort from the recognition that my loving heavenly Father approved the course before allowing me to take my first step." - Hannah's Hope page 15
Here's the deal, it doesn't have to make sense to me now, or ever for that matter. My human-ness simply cannot see or understand the bigger picture at play here anymore than I would be able to make out the beautiful scene of a 500 piece puzzle by merely looking at one single piece. I have prayed throughout this uphill trail that God would use me and my story in powerful ways. I don't know what those are, whether they are big or small is not my concern, when they happen in my lifetime is not something I worry about - I just find immeasurable comfort in knowing that this path that I am fighting my way through is one that was chosen for me by the God of the Universe. The same God that created the sky and the sand, the same God that created the sun and the moon and the stars - that exact same God has chosen this path for me. Who am I to change my little piece of this puzzle? How do I know the big or small ways that my piece might change the bigger puzzle?
Today, as I look at that image, I am able to say that each day the pain I carry makes a little more sense.
