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My Name Isn't Infertility

2004:
I stared at the page of the Bible again, tears streaming down my face and the truth of the Word working it’s way down to the deep places of my heart.

Maybe infertility isn’t who I really am. Maybe it’s just something I went through.

Maybe Chosen and Loved Daughter is who I really am.

I read the verses again…

Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. - Ephesians 1:4-6 (NASB)

Beloved. I looked up the word...to be greatly loved; dear to the heart. (1)

I let that sink in.

Was I really dear to God’s heart?

I could hear the words from my favorite teacher ringing in my head;

“Back it up with Scripture and then believe that what He says about you is true!”

Do I believe I am His beloved child?

Do I believe I am who He says I am? That I am chosen and loved and I belong to Him? Do I believe He is a good, good Father, even as I do not have the thing my heart longs for with every breath I take?

The lies start again, the enemy whispering in my ear…
Do you really think you would be a good mother? Ha! You would be a terrible mother. God knows that.
You are a failure.
Your husband would be better off with someone who could actually give him a child.
Don’t bother sharing your feelings. Everyone is sick of hearing it.
You are not a real woman. Real woman can actually get pregnant.

Jesus, help me. Jesus help me put my armor on. Fight for me. Take away my shame, Lord.

Not only does shame say we did something wrong. But it says we are something wrong.

The enemy wants us to wear a cloak of shame. He wants us to believe lies. He wants to isolate us and make us believe we are alone in our struggle to have a child. We can go through almost anything if we don’t feel alone in it. Infertility is one of the most lonely roads. I believe it’s one of the enemy’s favorite things to attack people about.

It questions our very core; our identity and our worth. And our purpose.

Every year on Mother’s Day, I remember all those years of infertility I went through. And then after eight long, painful years, having three miscarriages in a row. I remember because God has asked me to remember. He’s asked me to go back and to share what I have experienced, and what I have learned. I remember, and my heart aches for those who are still walking this road...

Infertility is brutal. The mistake I made was I tried to do it alone. I was too ashamed and felt so much despair that I didn’t want to share my feelings and struggles with anyone, even my husband. So I isolated myself, which makes it nearly impossible to believe truth over lies. I delayed my healing by YEARS because of my isolation. I do not want that for you! I pray for you so often, especially this time of year. I pray you would be brave enough to tell someone you trust.

And brave enough to tell your Father about it. He already knows.

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. - Psalm 56:8

This was so hard for me, because God was the only One who could fix it, and He was choosing not to. I struggled to trust Him.

I struggled to pour out my heart to Jesus, who could heal me without any effort, but hadn’t.

I longed for joy. I hadn’t experienced it in so many years.

Lord, but I struggle to choose joy; especially on Mother’s Day. My heart feels crushed under the weight of the pain. I am so tired. The shame screams loud from the deep places in me I’d rather keep quiet.

The elusive joy that infertility makes SO hard to find.

I stared at the bookmark in my Bible, the verses on it grabbing my attention:

When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed. Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then is was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.” The Lord has done great things for us and we are filled with joy.

Restore our fortunes, Lord, like the streams in the Negev. Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them. - Psalm 126 (NIV)

When was the last time you dreamed big dreams? When was the last time you laughed and let joy bubble up inside you, no matter your circumstances? Do you have any belief and hope left that those who sow in tears will someday reap with songs of joy? Is it possible that we can experience joy, even this week... on Mother’s Day?

Open your heart to Him so He can pour out His love and comfort on you. His is the only comfort that work. Will you trust Him enough to let Him at those deep places of hurt and confusion in you and let Him bind up your broken heart?

It’s why He came.

This is my prayer for you this week. Yes, even during Mother’s Day week. Even when you just keep starting your period month after month after month. Oh, it hurts so bad.

But God is good. And you are not alone.

Oh Lord, we believe you are a good Dad! Help our unbelief! Forgive our mistrust of you because of the pain that blinds us.

Pour your healing balm on the hearts that our broken and hurting. Give them the miracle of joy, even on Mother’s Day. Protect them from our enemy; send him and his lies back to hell where they belong. May they believe that infertility is not who they are; just something they are going through. May they believe they are Chosen and Loved Daughters. They need you so much today, Lord...especially this day. Amen.

 

Source:
(1) Dictionary.com

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If you are an imperfect wife, mom, daughter, or friend, struggling to stay focused on God in the craziness and find joy in the heartache, then we have something in common. I am a recovering perfectionist and daughter of the King, slowly learning to fully trust the One who sees me just as I am, and is already pleased. I’m so glad you are here.

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