Another friend had a baby and 2/3 of the women at church can’t dialogue beyond child-training or motherhood and there’s an invitation to another baby shower in your mailbox.
I know that void.
You sit at fellowship meal or in ladies group and your hands are bunched up, nervous, twitching, empty. That cringe when someone smiles and asks, “how are you?” Because if you answered for real, would they be prepared to catch your tears and pick up the pieces of your heart?
That deep aloneness…because even the ones who dare to venture through the minefield of your heart and ask, don’t understand.
I know that too.
I wish there was a band-aid I could hand you that you could slap on and in a couple of days you’d come to have peace with the ache and the anger and the grief…but I don’t. For some reason, we have been gifted with this journey and it’s not going away.
We have to come to terms with that, before we can take the next step.
This is not giving up hope.
If we don’t come to grips with our reality, we will plunge only deeper into despair. To come to terms with the diagnosis that all is not well, is the first step we must take to welcome a miracle.
The ache will not go away.
So embrace it. You don’t have to apologize for it, or pretend it’s not there. (Though some people may make you feel otherwise.)
Let your heart be filled, when your arms cannot. The further I dared to venture into the darkness of my hope deferred, the more empowered I became to rejoice in the blessings others received. This brings joy, in spite of pain.
Buy the Truth and sell it not. The Lord IS good. I know how it feels…like you are just surrounded by the glaring ugly, so take it from someone who has been there. Peel back the layers of ugly, step right in (it’s okay to close your eyes and wince – you’re not a wimp, it’s scary), taste and see.
For the one with empty arms?
You’re not alone. You never have been.
Dare to live in your skin and tell your story, because you know what? Redemption is right here, right now, FOR US.