She’s the mother of four. Their ages are her testimonial to the tired, overwhelming days. 4, 3, 1, and 3 months. I’m the mother of none. My empty house is the testimonial to my years of tears and empty longings. We seem so different on the surface. She can’t know what it’s like to face infertility…
My hands were shaking a little bit and my foot wouldn’t stop tapping. It wasn’t a phone call that I wanted to make and I literally felt my stomach rolling. I knew what the answer would be but everything in me longed for something different than reality. I dialed the number and cried my way…
He didn’t know if he’d ever get married and it caused him bitterness for years. Then slowly, piece by piece, God broke down the bits of pride and fear and hurt and brought him to a place of surrender. Just a few years later, I arrived in his life. We were introduced at a Christmas…
Children were denied me and my soul cried in agony. I beat the door of heaven until my hands were raw and bleeding. And silence echoed. And there, with my head bowed low and my hands dripping blood, I finally broke. I blinked away tears as I poured through Scripture, searching for hope. I’m over at…
She had twins. Beautiful little girls with tiny fingers and velvety skin. There was a time when she thought motherhood was forever lost to her and now daughters number 3 and 4 have joined the family. I ache with the glory of it. God redeems and here is proof. Shimmering, exploding evidence of grace. Holding the tiny bundles, I…
Every year I wonder if it will be the last. There is always that stirring hope, that longing. Perhaps this will be my last year of childlessness. Perhaps by next Christmas I will have a baby. Perhaps… And yet, Thanksgiving is here and this “thorn”, as the Apostle Paul would say, is still in my side….
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