I am an only child. I am not the “typical” only child because my parents never intended for me to be an “only” so they made sure I knew how to share. I will spare you the details but my Ama had a lot of miscarriages. As a kid I got lonely, despite having a gazillion cousins. Once I was a teen though I was grateful to have my own room & I got pretty used to not *really* having to share. As a young adult I decided that I would marry in my early to mid twenties & pop out as many kids as possible because: Mexican. I wanted 3 boys & 1 girl: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob & Angelina – yes like Jolie (facepalm). Fast forward to New Years Eve 1998-99. I was getting ready to go to a party but I didn’t feel very well. I kept getting ready though because it was NYE dammit & I had a party to get to. I walked downstairs & attempted to use the restroom one last time before I hopped in my hooptie to leave but the pain was intensifying. Damn those 2 Jack in the Box tacos I had for lunch! Being the stubborn teenager I was I got in my car anyway, stuck the key in the ignition but could not move to reach around for my seat belt. I yelled for my parents & the next 24-48 hours were mostly a blur. There was a lot of probing. Lots of bright lights. Lots of morphine. I was freezing. I don’t know how many different times & ways I told the doctor I was a virgin & that I was not having a miscarriage, that it was the tacos. I do recall dropping an F Bomb in front of my very conservative mother which prompted her to tell the doctor that I wasn’t lying & that she didn’t have to “leave the room” for me to tell the truth. I knew it was getting bad though because in between my trips to space I’d focus in & see the strong & stoic “Ama” I was used to seeing suddenly crying uncontrollably over me & praying. I wasn’t afraid. I knew I wasn’t dying but I still told God that if I was then I was ready. When I came to I remember asking for more drugs & being told that I had an ovarian cyst rupture & hemorrhage but that all my parts were intact & that I could still have children. Thank God! I thought. What man would want a girl who can’t have kids?!
In college a lot of Life happened & my priorities shifted. My dreams of getting married & starting a family were shattered by a Jarhead & the War on Terror. I drowned my sorrows in Long Island Iced Teas & put my faith in Marlboro Lights, dead-end relationships & lots of dancing. I was at a different club every weekend, sometimes on top of a speaker. I did NOT want kids, kids were gross & they ruined your life. They impaired my ability to get up & go as I pleased. I was glad that I could just stay as drunk as I wanted & not deal. I took my Pill every day & yet I still managed to have a couple “scares.” I would not quit drinking those months when the wait was a little long, instead I would continue to live fast & boast that I was “Nobody’s mother & Nobody’s wife.” But when “Nobody” was looking I would sob because deep down I knew that THIS was NOT what I really wanted for myself, THIS was NOT The Plan. I told myself that if I did not have kids by the time I was 30 I just wasn’t going to do it though. I was getting more set in my ways & the longer I waited the more selfish I got. Fuck slowing down.
More Life happened & C & I were getting pretty serious. We moved in together kinda quickly & it prompted me to write up questionnaires of sorts to ask each other every night & they helped get to know each other better. The only condition was to be 100% honest. One buzzy night I mustered up the nerve to ask him if he would still be with me if we found out that I couldn’t have kids. He said yes but asked why. I just said “I don’t know, I had issues as a kid & I think that it could be a possibility & I don’t want you to resent me someday if it ends up being that I can’t”. He just said he didn’t care & we went to sleep. I “officially” came off birth control in 2012, although we’d already been in between methods the prior year. We didn’t REALLY discuss the possibility of getting pregnant, we just kinda figured we would not NOT “try” & see how it went. I didn’t really think this scenario through. Every month that passed brought another imagined symptom. I COMPLETELY obsessed: Am I ovulating? Are my boobs hurting? I think my boobs like, HURT. I am like, a DAY late. OMG what if this is it?!? Oh Gawd. Wait! It’s cool now I can totally have a baby shower & a theme. And like, a baby. Bc “babies” are accessories right? You know, like purses. Your outfit (“family”) is not COMPLETE without one, right? Amirite? Omg this baby is gonna be chubby with Asian eyes, cutest ever.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. I cant drink. So many sad emojis.
Is this Real Life?
My period ALWAYS came. Two weeks late, on time & everything in between. And let me tell you that bitch came with a vengeance. She wanted to make it clear we were NOT fertilized or forming a microscopic human THIS month. I’d get sad for a bit. Like “oh bummer, no tiny cholas or Hulks this month” but I always got over it between weeks 1 & 3. Weeks one through three I would Google “French baby girl names” & practice “Luke” in cursive.
Me (on phone): “Dude I’m TOTALLY gonna get a stroller that looks like a ‘64 Impala Yea hot pink, obvie. But the baby shower is gonna be TRES Francais. You know, because Paris. And comme ce dis “CLASSY” au Francais? Otherwise its gonna be a co-ed shower on football Sunday. Yes Chargers, OBVIE. Blue & Gold. Yaaaasss girl. Taco guy. Yaaaasss the men will totally play the baby shower games.”
*queue screeching brakes sound*
Other
couples just KEPT getting pregnant. We
didn’t worry too much though bc we weren’t 100% focused on having a baby, we
were 75% focused on buying a house & 25% focused on having a baby. But after about a year & half 25% focus
would have still prompted a “scare” & we did not have one. We went to the doctor. I quit drinking. Took prenatal vitamins. I ate right, exercised. I bought ovulation packs in bulk. I propped my legs up against the wall. I drank Robitussin & Chinese herbs &
Mexican herbs. I went to a Botanica
& ran past a taxidermy monkey & a La Santa Muerte statue crossing
myself & praying I’d find the tea my friend’s Mom’s Tia’s Comadre got
pregnant on quickly before the Curandero Brujo behind the counter offered me a
Limpia. “No gracias, just the tesito
today.” Then I went to acupuncture.
Nothing. Then C had had
enough. And honestly so had I. When we finally bought a house we were faced
with a different set of challenges but you know, we still tried, we just didn’t
worry about it….
Bargaining
When
I say WE I mean C. Let’s keep it real, something
was WRONG. I mean come ON chicks get
pregnant on accident when they are faded and here I am damn near standing on my
head & doing cartwheels & nothing is happening!
*queue insecurities*
I
shouldn’t have drank or ho’d around so much in college. I mean, I’m pretty sure its broken. Oh I know!
I am just gonna keep doing what I am doing but I am ALSO gonna volunteer
with Kids Ministry. Nooo I know God
doesn’t care but you know, what if HE DOES?!?!?!? Dude, if I could just make up for
2003-2008. SO MUCH damage.
And
THAT friends is how I GROSSLY misunderstood Grace. If you’ve never heard anyone explain it
before, Grace is unmerited favor, from God.
No matter what you’ve done or how long you did it. If we repent & have Jesus in our hearts
it is by Grace, through faith that we are saved (Ephesians 2:8) – not because we volunteer or tithe or Adult
or WHATEVER. Christ got what we all proverbially deserved on the cross &
there is nothing we can do to make up for it or to undo our sin because Jesus’
blood washed us all from it & we don’t have to. Its FREE 99.
And it is hard for a little immigrant Paisa girl to understand how to
accept God’s FAVOR without earning it. In
between all of this I heard my first sermon on Hannah. The Bible says Hannah desperately wanted a
baby but that the Lord had shut her womb.
The sermon was too relevant & unfortunately for me I was sitting in
the middle of the 3rd row from the front & I am certain my
Pastor watched me bawl the entire message.
Also this ruined my perfect eyeliner, which just added insult to
injury. Yay for sunglasses. More on Hannah later.
Bummed
More
time passed and it was time to go back to the doctor. Neither of us are aging in reverse, although
we like to pretend. After more blood work
& tests they determined that C was not the issue. Dr. A
asked way too many questions. “Doc,
could you NOT… you know, like talk & sprobe?” I heard a high pitched noise in my head after
the words “cyst” & “endometriosis” & held back tears as internally I
screamed: “WHY ISN'T ANYTHING EVER EASY
FOR US?!?!??!!!??!?!?” Fine. Yes I will
go get the tube test Doc, sure thing.
DUDE. I did not know that there was a way to recreate
the pain I felt on NYE 1998 until the day I did this GD test. Understand that although I have a very bad
mouth - I try my damndest not to take the Lords name in vain but I just cant
even with the intensity of this test. This
shit hurt so bad that I could not control my screams or my tears. The nurse apologized profusely & held my
hand while I apologized back for “being so dramatic.” Now I knew why I had to sign that pinche
waiver. I looked at the doctor & he
seemed….idk sad maybe? Idk I doubt he
was sad bc he is a professional but his face definitely changed. He pulled the monitor closer to the 3 of us
& explained that my left fallopian tube was totally blocked. Well shit.
I had the afternoon off work so I went home to take Aleve & cry in
private but that didn’t last long because I had not one, but TWO baby showers
to plan (which I was happy about bc selfishly it did not give me the luxury to
overthink things). Dr. A called within the hour to say she
couldn’t help me anymore & to schedule an appointment with a specialist
ASAP. To which C replied “you know what
would help you feel better? A puppy”
*queue Boogie*
*queue Boogie*
Specialist
Doc did not give me an opportunity to address my diagnosis of Endometriosis
& the ovarian cyst without also steering me to the immediate solution of In
Vitro Fertilization. She was arrogant
& dismissive and made me feel like a putz for not jumping on the IVF
bandwagon. To clarify, In Vitro Fertilization
is when you extract mom’s eggs & fertilize them with the dad’s best
available sperm & then reinsert the bun back into her oven. This is pretty standard, expensive, and in my
opinion, invasive.
Me: “But I really just want to know what to do
about this cyst so it doesn’t rupture & cost me an ovary”
Specialist: “yes,
well, if it grows you’ll definitely KNOW, but in the meantime you should just consider
In Vitro.”
M: “No but isn’t there a surgery that will clear
out the blockage in my tube & remove my cyst?”
S: “You’re not a good candidate, the cyst is too
small to remove without damaging the surrounding eggs & fallopian tubes are
too delicate to clean out. If we cleaned
it out it would remain rigid & it would not help move things along, I recommend
you try in vitro fertilization”
Me: “No but I’m not “there” yet I’m just trying
to see about healing my situation first“
Specialist: “Why not?! Getting pregnant is the BEST
solution for endo & you have a very good chance that In Vitro will work”
M: “What about insemination? What about the tube
that isn’t blocked, am I not ovulating on the proper side?”
S: “Your odds are not that good. Think of it as a game of poker. With poker, there are chips….”
*insert
pissed off emojis* Bitch! Staaaaap comparing C & I’s commingled DNA
to poker chips, these are lives not odds!!!
We’d
just picked up our Boogie baby a week before my consult with the
Specialist. I left the Specialists’ office
defeated and void of all prayer or hope.
I still had to stop at Gymboree to pick up another baby shower gift though,
and manage not to lose my shit with every tiny outfit I bought for someone
else’s baby. When I got home C asked how
it went & all I could do was pour a GIANT glass of wine & cuddle with
the puppy. All I managed to communicate
was that it was bad & that apparently the only real hope I had to be a mom
was via IVF. That night, instead of our
usual bedtime prayers & fart jokes C held me while I wept. That night, I cried for all the times I
hadn’t cried in the previous four years & then the next day I got up &
went to work like I did every day before that – because life. And because you can’t deposit excuses.
We
met with our Pastor the following week & discussed where insemination &
IVF stood Biblically. We prayed. I cried.
My pastor extroverted all over the place. I knew where I stood, C agreed & we drove
home in silence.
Then
came the awful realization that my parents would not have grandkid. My parents, who tried so hard to have a big family
& only ended up with a crazy quasi-chola nerd that they technically still
feed once a week were stuck with just me.
Sorry Apa, this is where your last name ends. It bothers me though when his friends &
family say “Children's children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the
pride of their children” (Proverbs 17:6).
Yes, its in the Bible. Yes, it is
true. But also, kiiiinda condescending
when taken out of context. Like when people
interpret this into meaning “if you are a Godly parent, you’ll have
grandchildren to show for it” or my
FAVORITE: “the BEST Moms get promoted to
GRANDMAs” … um. No.
Sorry but not always.
Hating
Fast
forward some time & another puppy & in came the sin & the
doubt. Look – I am OBVIOUSLY no where
near perfect. I am pretty awful @ being
a Christian and as of late have been in pain & well past the average amount
of cranky once a month for a few days.
However, when I found out that God was not about to make my little
fairytale come true I lost my shit.
I
felt like The Llorona. La Llorona is a story
about a lady who lost her mind over a man & drowned her kids, then drowned
herself. She spends the rest of her
nights haunting a river in Mexico yelling “aayyyy mis hijos” (ay, my
kids). I just skipped the murder & suicide
part & went straight to mourning like “aaayy mis hijos!!” LOL I hope you
can tell that I’m kidding, but really this is how I picture myself when I think
about how crazy my emotions can get.
Every
now and then there came a month when the struggle was SO real that I was
certain I was drowning in a river of blood, shame, tears & self pity. The only way I knew to undo the knot in my
throat was to pour beer all over it and that is exactly what I did. For about a year I ate & drank
everything in my path in hopes of numbing away the inadequacy. Cookies & beer I always say, and we all
know I don’t really NEED a reason to drink beer or eat cookies, the difference
was that I also stopped going to the gym.
I was fucking unraveling. I didn’t want to see anybody. I
gained 15 lbs & I did not GAF. Until
I had to put on pants. “aaaay mis
pantaloooones!”
Then
there were those months that I’d committed to staying sober but instead a knot
of worthlessness in my throat would still (sometimes unexpectedly) develop into
anger & prompt me to compare myself to everyone else & ask why? Why
not me God? We were both hot messes in
college. Shit, she was a ho AFTER
college, Which one of us is more
deserving? I’d be a good mom too…
Man,
those judgy pants sure slid on easier than my real pants.
Yeah,
I know I am wrong but let’s just acknowledge that it is hard when you see
people who you think are less deserving than you succeed at something you
haven’t been able to do. Grace never
seems fair until we need some of it for ourselves. It also sucks when
your friends all start talking mom stuff and you're just standing there waiting
for an opening to talk about SOMETHING ELSE. I mean don't you work?
Travel? Puppies? Adulting? Election year? And
they complain & complain and I just
have to do my best to be a good friend & not let my own crap get in the
way. To clarify, I am not jealous of these
girls OR their babies. I am genuinely
happy for all of them & I love their kiddos, but some days I'm just mad
& I wish we would talk about something that didn’t constantly remind me of
my brokenness. Some days I say I'm going
to the gym so I can cry in the parking lot of said gym in peace. But then
I remember that ain't nobody got time for self pity and grief and tears so I
suck it up and work it out because I CAN control how hard I run and how much I
lift. Plus this way C doesn't see me cry or question why he's not enough
or why I'm not satisfied with what I have. And I don't have to look him
in the eye & apologize for being insane when really I just want to grieve
without judgements or words or anything but tears and groaning. And
I thank God for C and this able body that I can pound this treadmill with and
slam these weights with because this is the only thing I can do to keep from
going batshit crazy on days like this.
And
then comes the day when I catch you staring.
Yeah you. You who knows my
business. And not bc I’m fly (although I
am) but bc you feel sorry for me. With all due respect, stop. That is the nicest way I can say it. If I have to say it again there will be
cussing in Spanish. YES, I may have some
tough days where I wished it was me.
Where I pray that if I suddenly died I hoped C would remarry someone who
can give him babies; Days where I lift my eyes to the sky & say “God just
come get me. I'm done learning all the lessons you have for me on this earth.
I'm ready really ready God I'm done.” No I don't want your pity or your
sympathy, this shit is not cancer. I am fine. Days when I'm
sweating and simultaneously crying as if I were menopausal and I'm laughing like
a maniac and I'm pining for a baby but THOSE days come to an end. Usually around the 28th-31st
day of every cycle. And they are
replaced with days when instead I am thankful.
I am thankful that it hurts. Every day. Physically & emotionally. And every stab, burning twist is a real &
constant reminder of the shit I cant do. I am grateful that I am
here, and that this is the ONLY thing my body cant do. I do not need your pity. Stop looking at me like that. I am made in the Lord’s image (Genesis 1:27). I am fearfully & wonderfully made (Psalm
139:14). My God’s GOT ME. But seriously why the hell isn't grief
LINEAR?!?!?! Nope, I am fine. I
am going to be fine.
HEaling
Yes
my God. My Heavenly Father, Son, Holy
Spirit, Jesus, Jehova, Yah-Weh, He heals me.
And the mania ceases.
There
is triumph. There is victory.
But this story doesn't end with a picture of a sonogram announcing a
miracle.
Remember
Hannah? Hannah was married to Elkanah. In the old days it was cool to have as many wives
as you could support. Elkanah was also
married to Peninah. The Bible speaks of
what Hannah could not produce: Peninah
had children but Hannah had none.
Although Hannah had no children Elkanah LOVED her more. But yet the Bible still speaks of what Hannah
could not produce. What if she was
really pretty, or smart, or considerate, a great cook, what if she had
ABS??! Well, the only thing I can come
up with is that the Bible wants to point out that the enemy wants us to
identify Hannah with what she has the INABILITY to produce. He wants us to identify ourselves with
something negative & camp there.
In
the Bible it says that God shut Hannah’s womb – which makes me ask why? Why would God just deprive her of the
petitions of her heart? Have you ever
had the tools to attain something but you still cant get there? Does it drive you crazy? I sometimes catch myself thinking: “this is the ONE thing a woman is SUPPOSED to
be ABLE to do…” where is the lesson in
this? Uuuggghhh then I just end up
cross-eyed because GOD’S time is not MY time.
What
I haven’t told you yet is that Elkanah’s other wife (the one with kids) likes
to provoke Hannah. “Look what I can do, check out all my kids”
but what’s crazy is that Elkanah loves HANNAH so much that he gives her a
DOUBLE portion (of food) & so Peninah hates on her even though she has
MULTIPLE of what Hannah prays incessantly for (a son). Hannah prays so hard at one point that a
priest thinks she is faded, but Peninah is the one hating on Hannah. Why?
Idk does Hannah have God’s favor?
Idk this is a weird one for me to try to explain, especially when I ask
myself HOW Hannah has gained Gods favor?
Hannah has God’s favor because Hannah has FAITH. She knows that God will turn her mourning into
dancing (Psalm 30:11). And just like
that I realized that grief is not linear & inner strength is an
illusion. I cannot muscle through
everything. My flesh and my heart may
fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26)
Now
I am just being honest. Bc of the baby showers
I was planning & the subsequent emotions I was avoiding I did not properly
grieve. And I knew it. I did not acknowledge Jesus bringing me to it
& through it I only knew I was mad & sad but I did not have time for
either. Once though, I did manage to ask
C if HE was OK with all of this & do you know what he told me?????
HE
SAID: “Babe. I married YOU. I did not marry you bc you could have my
kids, I married you bc of YOU, bc I love
YOU. So no, I don’t care that we cant
have kids. Would it be nice? Sure.
But it does not affect US.”
THIS. THIS from a Mexican man. Do you know how many macho MEXICAN men will
LEAVE you for not being able to bear them a SON?! Never mind a seed altogether?! How amazing is C? Mega hulkSMASH amazing!
In
the middle of Hannah’s story Elkanah asks her “Hannah, why are you weeping? Why
don't you eat? Why are you downhearted? Don't I mean more to you than ten
sons?" Now Elkanah did not
understand Hannah’s heart when he asked her this but stay with me bc you may
also be asking yourself why I am whining about not having a baby when I am
still so blessed beyond measure. So here
it is: I am grieving the idea of being a
mom. My husband is ENOUGH. He is MORE than enough, he's amazing. The last thing I want is to make him feel
like shit about us not being parents bc he never resents me or makes me feel
awful for not bearing his children.
Sometimes I just can't cry in front of him though. Not like this. Not until I
overcome. In the process of me
overcoming I questioned God’s ability to heal.
And I picked the right person to ask.
Me: Babe.
So I would only ever admit this to you bc I know you wont judge me for
it… but even though I believe God has the ABILITY to heal me, I don’t think He
WILL. How do you even come to terms with
your hip (my husband has an old injury that left him with a bad hip &
severe pain) when you see an able bodied person wasting their blessings?” *tears, snot*
“This isn’t fair. He doesn’t pick
& choose does He? Idk man, are we
not worthy, would we have been monsters if we managed to have it all?
C: C’mon babe.
Your spiritual gift is Faith, don’t say that.
Me: Well then that ought to give you an idea of
where I’m at right now. Like, why not US you know? Is there some great big lesson in all of
this, are we supposed to like be examples somehow bc idk how pitching a fit
& shaking my fist at God is any kind of Biblical example of Faith. I mean seeeriously, we are forever swimming
upstream.
C: Remember when I was upset about money &
our careers, and layoffs & trying to invest in our future but not having a
gun, or a boat, or a house? Do you
remember what you asked me?
Me: I said
“well, how do you measure success? Bc if success is tied up in material
things or the security of a fat 401k then you’re missing the point. Look how far we’ve come. We will not take any of that with us. Stop comparing the opportunities that we’ve
had to those of others. Our God
provides. Our marriage is strong. Our bellies are full & we have a roof
over our heads. That’s success.”
C: Exactly.
So how did you expect God to heal us?
With a miracle? By giving us what
we want when we want it?”
S: *tears*
I guess sometimes he heals us physically & sometimes he heals our
hearts…
Deliverance
The Proverb I quoted earlier about grandchildren being crowns does not only apply to biological children, nor does it infer that grandchildren are prizes, or PROOF that you’ve parented in a Godly way. It can also be applied to Spiritual Children (i.e. my Godson, my nieces, nephews, younger cousins, mentees, anyone really who has ever come to me for spiritual guidance or life advice). Do you think those count as “crowns to the aged?” Well, I hope so. My parents did their best to set a good, Godly, real life example to me & everyone who has ever stepped foot in their house out of love & reverence for our Lord Jesus – regardless of the promise of crowns. And then I suddenly realized my parents did not give a flying **** if I couldn’t bear children. They just want me to be happy. And if I could find happiness without a baby they would be down to never have to babysit. I’m pretty sure my Apa is looking at RV’s online & plotting a cross country road trip right now… LOL!
THIS
isn't over. My story will inspire without a cute announcement or a glitzy
baby shower or a name & a birth method someone will inevitably
judge. But it will shine and laugh in the face of conformity and
prevail. In those months when the pain is too much I know He is holding
me up and showing me that in Him, I am free from my past & there no
condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:1). That there is nothing in my past that I am
“paying for” & that I am Redeemed, daily.
He makes me see & understand that I am not here bc of the
circumstances around me but bc I’m standing on Gods promise. That His delays are not denials. That I should not allow myself to get
discouraged – regardless of what society or culture or the media tells me how
it's “supposed” to be, I will not doubt & allow the enemy in because FAITH
not tears please God. I am now in the
process of telling myself that not only is He able, I know He WILL.
I
told my new doctor that I am not “one of those women that hangs their hat on
being a mother.” I said this because she
was also being pushy about IVF & I did not feel like being vulnerable or
explaining myself. I figured that she
would respect that more than me maybe saying that I was afraid or that although
I want to partake in creation that I am hurting & I just needed her to just
let me be. If I’d have told her I was a vegan
Jehova’s Witness hipster she probably wouldn’t have questioned me but I was too
tired to come up with that one on the spot.
Regardless, I will not allow the devil to take my spirit from me while
I’m waiting on the promise, I will keep praising God, despite having been in
church many times where I have not audibly worshipped the Lord. Because sometimes the overwhelming spirit of
God makes it so I cannot speak without tears flowing & I keep praise in my
heart.
SELFish
Now,
I should probably tell you that although I am labeled a “Christian” I suck at it.
This is not excuse time, this is reality time. I do my best to lead like Jesus every day but
I inevitably fall short every single day.
This piece has foul language, perhaps some risqué topics, and may even
seem straight up irreverent to some of you.
All I can say is I am sorry. This
is just where I am. I will continue to
work on it. I want to make excuses but
in reality I should be making every effort to be like Jesus & sometimes I just
kinda half-ass it. It’s not OK. I am aware & I am working on it. I am coming to the realization that trying to
be more like Jesus is not about being a better person, its about being held
accountable to God (Romans 3:19).
With
that said, I am also working on trying not to wear myself too thin by
overbooking my schedule & overcommitting to people, causes & events to
try to make up for my self-worth. Usually,
overscheduling allows me to procrastinate feeling anything. Because I’m “too busy!” And God forbid people think I’m lazy. It’s almost like I’m saying “hey just bc I’m
not a mom doesn’t mean I don’t have a million things to do.”
Today
we are right in the middle of a lot of uncertainty & decision making with
regards to becoming parents. We have a
few more doctor appointments but have not ruled out the possibility of
adoption. We honestly do not know what
God has planned for us but we know we are down for whatever. We are down for a non-Mexican, disabled,
older child if that is what God wants for
us. I am scared & idk how I’m
gonna manage but I trust that if He brings me to it, He will bring me through
it.
Back
to Hannah - Hannah wanted a son so bad that she prayed to the point where she
could not eat, sleep, function. She told
the Lord that if He gave her a son she would dedicate his life back to
Him. “And the Lord REMEMBERED her, after
some time she gave birth to a son & she named him Samuel, “Because I asked
the Lord for him” (1 Samuel
1:19-20). She breastfed him & as
soon as she weaned him she went back to the temple, dedicated his life to the
Lord & left him there to worship all the days of his life. You know what’s crazy about this story? First, I am supposed to have a brother named
Samuel. He is in Heaven, serving the
Lord. But think about that for a
sec. What if you prayed & prayed for
say, a house & in the process you promised God that if He would just “give”
you a house (I say “give” in “quotations” bc it bothers me when people approach
God like a magical Genie) that you would turn it into a church. And then you get keys. Would yoooou reeeeeaalllly turn your pad (man
cave included) into a church? Where
people come seeking solace at all hours of the day & night? How gangster is Hannah? She gave her son back to God. Her SON.
Then what happened? God gave her
SIX more. Yeah, forreals. Seven kids!
Rest.
Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from Him (Psalm 62:5). I feel like a cheeseball saying this but He might not come when you want him to, but He’s always on time. I do not know how much longer we are going to be down to go through this process or how weak or strong we will be throughout but I do know that He loves us. He loves us so much that His Glory will eclipse our afflictions. I have no idea what we are going to be living the next few months but I do know that however this story ends it is already part of my testimony, that it is God’s will, that I will submit to it & surrender to it & that it is WELL WITH MY SOUL.
Thanks
for reading. I hope that despite our
differences you found a lesson in this piece that you found relatable & are able to apply somehow to your own life.
Happy Mother's Day...
Happy Mother's Day...
One
Love, blessUP
-The Holy Bible, NIV, via the YouVersion app
-1 Samuel 1:1-28 re: The Birth of Samuel
-Youtube Sermon by Pastor Larry Weathers: October 3, 2009 Greater Morningstar Apostolic Church in Maryland
-Never Marry a Mexican, Sandra Cisneros
