Stupendous...that's a good word.
Majestic.
Beautiful.
But then there are other words that seem to get stuck in your throat. They come up and form a type of bile that burns and leaves its mark. Some of these words are said in the heat of anger and frustration. Other words are used with the intent to hurt and cause pain. But there is one word that exists in my world that is forever burned into my very being.
Infertility.
There are no words to describe the emptiness that comes with this word. In this small four syllable word, there is a mountain of shame, pain, hurt, bitterness and loss. When a young woman gets married, she walks into her role as wife with expectancy. Along with the planning and dreaming of dresses, flowers and vows, there is also dreams of motherhood. It's not something that she expects to think about...it just happens. There is something buried deep within a woman's heart that yearns for the day she is blessed with a child. It is a natural God-given yearning.
So what happens when the womb stays empty? What happens when month after month and year after year there is no child? The roots of pain, hurt and deep loss bury deep within and more times than not seem to suffocate. This was my journey for many years. I watched family and friends receive the blessing of children. My heart hurt and cried out begging for God's mercy. My knees were bruised from the times I would fall down and ask for His mercy. There were days when I felt like I was sinking further and further into a deep fog. Gentle tears often became sobs racking my body. Every dream, desire, hope and expectation faded with each month, year...each breath.
But then something happened. It wasn't a snap-of-the-fingers genie in a bottle kind of change. This was a slow process. My God met me in my times of grief and despair and slowly, gently began to peel away the layers. Each time I fell to my knees He was there to meet me and minister to my heart. Sometimes I received His ministry...sometimes I didn't. But He never failed. He never left. He never turned away from me. He is constant. He is strong. He is unyielding.
If the definition of a happy ending is that the girl and boy walk into the sunset and all their dreams come true, then this story does not have a happy ending.
This story has a MAJESTIC and BEAUTIFUL God created ending. This story stands as a testimony to what happens when God brings broken, hurt and lost people together and shape a family in His image. There are still cracks and scars but through those God's love and light are able to shine through. You see...my great and mighty God brought me two little boys who needed a mother who understands hurt. They needed a mother who has walked through disappointment and rejection. My sons needed to see their mother stand with arms held high praising her God for the blessed and broken road. They need to see rejoicing in the ashes. This word that used to burn pain and loss into my spirit no longer holds the power. It is now the word that I use as a means to lift my hands and praise The One who brings life.
Beauty from ashes...
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