Sorry for the silence these past few weeks. I’ve been meaning to post, but, life has been crazy—what’s new, huh? I’ve also been trying to carve out more time with my guy and other people, and less time at my computer or on my phone. Post to come about that in the weeks ahead.
My guy asked me the other day if I was planning to blog.
“My thoughts are still brewing,” I told him.
“Oh, okay,” he said. “So when they start boiling over, that’s when you’ll be ready to write?”
So here I am, a few weeks later, and my thoughts have finally boiled over.
April has been a very baby-filled month. We attended a super fun gender reveal party for the sweetest friends last week. The week before that, we checked in with our social worker by phone—you know, just to say hi and we’re still alive. And this weekend, we have a baby shower for another of our favorite couples.
In the midst of it, this heart of mine has been especially tender. It’s been amazing to rejoice with our friends, but it’s hard. Just…hard.
The other week the title of one of my favorite books randomly popped into my head: “On Writing Well.” And I laughed thinking, “Ha, my life is more like ‘On Waiting Well.'”
And a little bell went off in my mind—ding, ding, ding, ding! Hey, you—you just stumbled on something important here!
So I’ve brought that phrase before the Lord during my morning quiet times:
“Lord, help me to wait well. Jesus, I know You’re more than enough—even if we never get a baby. I want to wait on You well.”
And it hit me—this excruciatingly long wait (which will officially hit the 5-year mark this fall)—how I walk through this waiting period speaks volumes about who I say Jesus is.
Me freaking out about the wait says I don’t trust Him to handle this. Me growing bitter says I deserve better—when He’s already given us the greatest gift of salvation through the Cross. Me growing angry when others pass us in the baby line (oh, yes, there’s a baby line, my friends) says I don’t really love them. I don’t really know how to rejoice with them despite my pain. It says my Lord’s love doesn’t conquer all.
Friends, at the end of the day, baby or no baby, I want people to want my Jesus. I want people to look at my life, as crazy and broken as it is, and want the Savior who sustains me. I want people to realize that it shouldn’t be possible for me to be free from bitterness and anger, but that, in Jesus, I am oh-so free.
And everything I do and say either pushes people closer to Jesus or further away. I used to think there was some neutral middle ground where my actions didn’t affect my witness. Yeah—I don’t believe that anymore. I love the way Titus puts it—through our actions, we have the chance to make Gospel attractive.
Years ago, my precious mom jotted down Philippians 2:14–16 on a 3×5 card and put it on our fridge: “Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life…”
I’m so grateful she tucked it next to our family calendar, because now I can recall those words from memory.
So, when the wait for our baby grows longer—I can shine like the stars as I hold out the good news of Jesus. When my plans fall apart—God gives me His grace to make the Gospel attractive. When I don’t feel like rejoicing with others—Jesus gives me His love for them. And when I’m ready to give up—I can still shine.
So, lately, I’ve been asking myself this on repeat: “Will they see me and want my Jesus?”
I pray the answer is a resounding yes.