I cried over my lost-babies yesterday. Deep, horrible sobs that seemed to tear at my insides.
It’s been two years since Annie was born and sometimes it feels like yesterday and sometimes it feels like a whole lifetime ago, and always it hurts.
I have to fight away the “whys” that seem to plague me. The deepest and darkest being the agonizing question of, “God, why won’t you let me bring a baby home, ever? Is there something horribly wrong with me—that no one would ever want to place a baby with me, that You won’t heal my body, that I just don’t deserve to mother an infant?”
I’m a logical person, so I want to push the questions far away. I know that God doesn’t work that way. I know He’s not picking on me. I know I don’t serve a God who keeps stock of my sin and labels me unworthy for certain things. When I’m holding tight to Jesus, I’m forgiven. Always, completely, forgiven.
But the words attack at the strangest times, and I’m not always ready with my logical responses, and my emotions become a tangled up, mangled mess.
I finally found the strength to whisper the words to my husband, as ugly and illogical and untrusting as they are.
I forget sometimes. I forget that bringing dark things into the light exposes them. The lies of the enemy lose their power in the light of truth.
My husband wrapped his hands around mine and spoke words that made me pause. “Not very many women can sit on the sidelines and still be faithful,” he began. “But you have.”
And then he listed my other-babies.
Not the lost-babies, but the babies who came for just a season at a time. All the ones who weren’t really mine but I have changed their diapers, wiped their noses, rocked them to sleep, told them stories, and whispered that Jesus loves them.
“If you had the children you wanted, who would have been there for the children who needed you? It’s true you weren’t the main player. They have their mamas. But you’ve been faithful from the sidelines, and that is a calling as deep and strong as motherhood.”
My husband thinks well of me. I haven’t always been faithful. I know that. But oh, oh, how I long to be.
It’s true I have many lost-babies, and I do ache for them. I am still heartbroken at saying goodbye. But they aren’t the only babies I have.
Oh, Lord, help me be faithful from the sidelines.
The truth is, there are places in all our lives where we are stationed on the sidelines. Being the main player in one area will always mean being on the sidelines in another. It’s not just me, it’s all of us.
Wouldn’t it be incredible if the women of God could be known for their willingness to fight from the sidelines?
That instead of lamenting about the things we don’t have, we are thanking God for the things we do have and faithfully doing the work He has given us today?
Are you watching your friends all marry and wondering why it can’t be you? Be faithful from the sidelines.
Are you watching all your friends have babies while your arms are empty? Be faithful from the sidelines.
Are you home raising your children without being able to do the other things you desire? Be faithful from the sidelines.
Are you working at a job that doesn’t seem as important as someone else’s? Be faithful from the sidelines.
Whatever the area where you feel you are missing out, remember to be faithful.