Well, today, for the first time in quite some time, there is no company in our house. Jason & Kathleen have long returned to their comfy house in Indiana. Kristi and darling little Logan have returned to New Mexico to be with their Ironman. Now Ray, Gabbi, and little Grace are gone as well.
This morning we found a bowl of dry cheerios on our coffee table. They were the new yogart cheerios, but you wouldn't know it from looking at them. Grace had eaten every one of the yogart ones out and fed most of the plain ones to her "good puppy dog" Jay-bee. Logan and Grace were both so much to have around, and our house is very quiet now.
Having all these sweet kids in our home (and I'm including Jason here) is such a blessing and so emotional at the same time. When they leave, our house is quiet again. There aren't cheerios crunching under my feet or toys littering the hall. We don't hear Logan chirping "hi" and carrying around her little pink blanket. Gracie isn't there to wrap her arms around John's neck and say "Uncle JB, I love you sooo much" or squeal everytime anything with Cinderella comes onto the television. There is no continual singing about wooden shoes and ponytails as Grace bows and says, "Thank you. Thank you very much!"
This morning, we finally made it back to church. With the company in, our attendance hasn't been very good. Pastor Paul was on vacation, but our assistant pastor had a fantastic sermon on "Churning or resting?" One of the scriptures he used really ministered to John and me.
I Cor. 3:6: I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.
This verse was such a reminder to me that in everything we are going through, it is God who is in charge of things. It is not Wendi or John or a physician. Instead of having the focus "let go and let God" which is extreme or "it all depends on me" which is also extreme, our focus should instead be "we can do things, but it is God in the end." In my case, I can seek medical attention, but it is completely in God's hands.
It is so hard during this journey not to get anxious and worry. It is also hard to remember that it isn't any medicine I take or procedure I get, but instead, it is God. Pastor Gene also reminded us of the African proverb which I will constantly remind myself of: Lord Jesus, let my heart sit down.
Woah! When he said that, I was totally blown away. Yes Lord! Help my hurting heart to sit down and relax. I wanted to finish today's blog with a poem that has become my "theme" since beginning this infertility journey back in 2003. It's a little long, but it is worth it to share the whole thing. I am sure that as you read it, you can put your own "situation" into the words.
By: Russell Kelfer
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate...
and the Master so gently said,"Wait.",
"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!"
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.
My future and all to which I relate
hangs in the balance and you tell me to Wait?"
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign.
Or even a 'no,' to which I'll resign.
You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply.
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
as my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut, and grumbled to God,
So, I'm waiting...for what?"
He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine...
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of My love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.
You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
you'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
when darkness and silence are all you can see.
You'd never experience the fullness of love
when the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
The glow of My comfort late into the night,
the faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
You'd never know should your pain quickly flee,
what it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
but oh, the loss if I lost what I'm doing in you.
So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
that the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still "WAIT".