I feel as though I am in a season of waiting. My miscarriage has ended, but now I am waiting to see if I will be brave enough to try once more. Because what if I miscarry again? Could I handle more disappointment? And if I do indeed decide that I am brave enough (which I am pretty sure that I am, seeing as children and family are my hearts desire), I will then have to wait to see if the Lord allows us to conceive another child. And if He allows that, then I will be waiting to see if this time we will get to hold our little one in our arms at the end of the pregnancy.
We are also currently waiting for some other things in our life. Some small things, some big. We are waiting to celebrate Jack's second birthday (which is right around the corner!), and we are waiting for Spring Break (we have an exciting trip planned!). We are waiting for some bigger changes that will be happening in our family at the end of this school year, and I am waiting to turn thirty over the summer (for some reason the idea of turning thirty is greatly bothering me!).
The problem is that I have never been good at waiting, at living one day at a time. I like to know the outcome, the way that the story is going to end. Even when I read a fictional novel I always read the last chapter first! If the ending is good, I give the book a chance. If not, I pass the story up entirely. Who wants to waste their time on a story with a bad ending? But life isn't like that. I can't read what the ending chapters of my life on this earth will look like. I can't skip ahead and see that down the road I did indeed have four children (or more!), or if the three I already have will be my only loves. I can't know for sure, and I am not promised, that we will all have good health, or that we will always know financial security. I can't predict if our family will ever have to walk through a tragedy. In fact, I am not even promised that my story will have more chapters. I desire the story of my life to be a long, thick, good book, but the fact of the matter is that some stories are shorter than others. And I don't know what kind of story the Lord has written for me, or for my family. So I must wait to find out.
I used to think that it was the only option that I had, this waiting. Dreadful, agonizing waiting. And I have been doing the dreadful waiting thing for a number of years. I know those chapters well. Waiting to meet my special someone, waiting to get married. Waiting for children, new jobs, moves. Always waiting for something more exciting! Waiting for God to do something *BIG* in my life. Waiting to be different, more mature, responsible, likable. Waiting to be thinner. Waiting to love myself more. Always waiting for tomorrow. Never living for today.
That Monday two weeks ago, when I began to miscarry, I wasn't sure what to pray for. Of course I wanted to ask God to let it be something else, to allow me to keep my September baby. But I also wanted to pray for His will to be done. I felt conflicted about what to ask Him for. So as I sat there (that time waiting on a doctor), as the tears rolled down my cheeks, I simply just asked Him as I finished my day, to not leave me the same person I was at the start of my day. To somehow grow me through this experience, whatever the outcome. I asked Him over and over again, please Lord, just let me learn from this, please don't let me be the same once it is over. And it has been my same prayer for the past two weeks. Please Lord, grow me. Change me. Use me.
Yet, I have still struggled. I have struggled with having a positive attitude. I have struggled with feeling depressed as friends announce September due dates (they seem to be everywhere!). I struggle with getting out of bed in the morning. I struggle with being nice to teenagers. And as I previously mentioned, I have struggled the most with finding myself in a season of waiting once again. I did not want to be here, waiting to see what happens next.
But as I was thinking today on how much I hated this dreadful waiting, and on the fact that I have no option but to wait, God placed it on my heart that I do in fact have options. I have the option to choose how I will wait. Will I continue to wait with anger, anxiety, hopelessness, and fear of the unknown? Or will I wait with joy? Joy knowing the Lord already knows my ending chapters! He has already written them! Will I wait with excitement? Excitement over what He is going to do next! Will I wait hopeful, trusting Him to show me His ways that are best? Trusting that He has a plan, and allowing Him to have control?
These have been my thoughts this day. I know what I want to choose. And if I meant what I prayed, that the Lord would not leave me the same through this experience, then I know what I will choose. I will choose the opposite of what I have chosen in previous chapters of my life. I will choose the joy, excitement, and the hope. I will choose God and His truth. It is as simple as that. Because what I seem to keep forgetting is that it is not really my story to tell anyway. It's His. And He can write the book any way that He wants. And I can rest easy, because I know for a fact that He is an incredible author! I am so thankful that He holds the pen. And that knowledge alone can turn even the most dreadful season of waiting, into the most beautiful season of anticipating. I am excited to see what He will write next.
