A "Save the Date" from God

Last weekend my daughter responded to a call to prayer by going up and kneeling at an altar with two friends. The oldest of the trio has been much like a mentoring peer to my daughter. She's responded to her hormonally-driven, pre-teen, angst-filled facebook posts with sound and sensitive advice. She's shared laughs with her, kept her secrets, and set her straight when needed. But for me, this past Sunday was a highpoint. She prayed with my daughter. I reflected in my seat and thanked God that He has brought such great friends our way.  As I've thought about that moment since then, I've been able to experience a blessing come around, full circle. This lovely young lady who knelt at the altar with my daughter is living up to a heritage of caring. It was her grandmother who led me to an altar about sixteen years ago. We were at a women's rally and an invitation to prayer was given. She came and fished me out of the crowd of women and walked with me to that sacred rail. We'd formed a friendship a few summers earlier. I had spent those summer months working as a Cadet assigned to her church. This woman took me under her wings. She took the time to get to know me. She was genuinely interested in me and encouraged me to listen for God's leading in my life. She was open about herself and she gave of herself. She made an investment in me that summer and she kept up with me over the following few years. By the time we met at that rally, she knew I'd been struggling with infertility. I don't actually remember talking with her about it, but she knew. And it was with that in mind that she invited me up to pray. We knelt and she interceded for me. She asked that I might receive the desire of my heart and she spoke it as if it were. It was powerful and I stood from there assured of God's care and provision. That next day I was looking through my Bible randomly trying to find something I could read before our congregation. It was probably 11:03am on Sunday morning, which will reveal a lot to all you church-goers. I was not concerned with what was in there for me, yet at that moment God led me to the 113th Psalm. I rose, moved to the pulpit and rather sanctimoniously (I confess) I read, "Praise the Lord. Praise, O servants of the Lord, praise the name of the Lord. Let the name of the Lord be praised, both now and forevermore...Who is like the Lord our God...who sits enthroned on high...who stoops down...raises the poor...lifts the needy...seats them with princes...He settles the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children...."  "Wait, what? Go back. What did that say?" I just stood there staring at the page and then moved on. "Praise the Lord." That was Psalm 113, with a bunch of verses skipped, of course. I sat down, still on the platform but no longer part of what was going on around me. I'd closed the Bible and I started to wonder if I'd actually read those precise words. I thought I had conveniently just happened upon the Psalm and when I tried to find it again, I couldn't even remember what Psalm it was. Well, it's in there. But on that Sunday, at that moment, it was in there just for me. It was a direct answer to what we'd prayed about the day before and was like a "Save the Date" card without the date. It was as if God were saying, "I'm about to do this, you just pay attention and watch me." He's been true to His words in ways I could not have imagined. I'm amazed by this journey of joy He's set me on. I am so blessed. "God is not a man that he should lie, nor a son of man, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill?" Numbers 23:19

Fears Revisited

The first thought that I might not have children came when I was 14.  I was daughter number three of four and the only one left not yet showing signs of  a developing body. “Flaquindé” was what they called me. It was a Dominican word for skinny and I was in fact, skin and bone.  My limbs looked so long, everyone thought I would tower above my sisters.  If you saw my 5’3” frame now, you might wonder what we were thinking.  It seems my fast metabolism and active lifestyle caused me to be a late bloomer.  I was convinced the day would never come and every morning was met with disappointment.  Eventually, the thought crept in, “if this hasn’t happened yet, it’s never going to happen.  There must be something wrong with me.  All my friends have started.  I’m never going to be a mother.”  You’d think 14 is young to have this kind of concern, but I privately grieved at the thought that I would never have a baby.  The day finally came when lanky arms and legs blossomed into full womanhood—okay not quite “full.”  The irony?  It was not a welcomed ‘friend.’  But you could have predicted that. Life moved on and I gave little thought to the days of longing for that sign that I was finally fully woman.  I came away from that time with the simplistic reality that things work out the way they’re meant to. Why simplistic? Because I had no inkling then of the layers of truth that lay there. It was a simple faith that would later be tried and tried again. When one day that age-old fear became reality, “I will never have a baby,” would I still believe that God would work things out the way they were meant to?  Yes and yes and yes.  Did it come easily?  No, no, no.  But God “is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20a).  He is so good!

Getting Started

I wonder how many people start off a blog with a phrase something like, "I love to write." Well, it may be overused but, I love to write. I've been enjoying writing for as long as I can remember and I believe I'm meant to write. I've wanted to get serious about writing but I've allowed other priorities to keep me from it. Now with the wonderful rise of technology, from which I've tended to shy away, I'm left with no excuse to keep me from putting pen to paper. Or fingers to keyboard, if you like.
The book in me is all about the rollercoaster ride of infertility, complete surrender to God's will and the resulting outcome. I think I would call it "Blessed Barrenness," a testament to the way God turns even what we consider to be the greatest losses in life into gain. Don't you just love when He does that? Well, I'm just getting started, so stay tuned!