What will the other kids think of me?
Will they want to play with me?
Will that girl with the pretty bow in her hair let me play with the baby doll she was holding?
I sure hope the teacher is as nice as she looks.
I had so many thoughts that day and I have learned that since that frightening moment when everything and everyone was so uncertain, those same thoughts never seem to go away no matter how much older we get.
For example, it was last year when I took a deep breath, exhaled, and pressed the “publish” button. Within seconds of pressing “publish”, a blog was started, an infertility support group was scheduled to begin (despite not having any attendees at the time), and our story of heartbreak, loss, and hope was shared with my family, friends, and Facebook.
But also within those seconds, I felt as though I had been transported back into 1989 where I was standing before my Kindergarten class with the same insecure thoughts.
What will my friends think of me?
How will they respond?
Will anyone come to my support group?
How many will judge me? Offer their unwanted advice? Or shame me?
At the time, I would have never dreamed that our story would have been read and shared with thousands upon thousands of people around the world. Or that it would become a popular safe haven for those struggling with infertility. A place where they can find hope. Strength. Validity. Love. And acceptance. But more importantly, I never knew how simply sharing my story to perfect strangers could in return give me everything I also needed.
You see, since that afternoon in April when I shared my wounds and showed my scars, there has been a woman whom I have never met supporting me from hundreds of miles away. She isn’t struggling with infertility, nor has she ever, nevertheless, she has held me up for the past several months as I travel on this bumpy journey with all of its twists and sharp turns. I haven’t heard from her in a while, but today I received a message from in which she said this…
At 2:30 this morning I almost sent you a message. I woke from my sleep and as I opened my eyes you were in my thought. I remember seeing your name as though it were written on my wall and I hear the words: “blessings” and “favor in the sight of the Lord.” I wanted to share that with you now that it is daylight. Praying for whatever the Lord is laying on my heart for you.
Why am I bothering to tell you all of this? It’s because everyone has a story to tell, and I want to encourage you to not let the “a room full of rocking chairs” cause you to be afraid. Be willing to open yourself up to being vulnerable as you let others know what you are facing, as well as the difficulties you are going through. Because it is when you do, you not only lend help to others who are hurting, but you also allow others to help you, to hold you, and support you.
Sweet sister, don’t allow the enemy to convince you it’s okay to stay in isolation or go through this alone. He wants you to suffer in silence. Because the person you open up to, could also be the person God is wanting to use in order to speak hope into our hopeless heart. Strength into your weary bones. And His plans into your uncertain situation.
If I had never shared my story and allowed myself to be vulnerable, this woman would not have had the opportunity to speak God’s words; words that I desperately needed spoken into my desperate situation. There is no doubt I was blessed by God through her. But, I also believe that she was blessed on that very day to be used by God as well.
You never know whose life you could touch. Or how much encouragement you could receive. Or how much more glory God could get if others knew not just the “ending,” but the whole story. So be bold and courageous! Don’t remain silent. Put your writings on the wall. And maybe He will write His writings on a wall for you just like He graciously did for me.
I would love to connect with you on a personal level, so if you liked this post, pass it on. Then come find Waiting for Baby Bird on the public Facebook page or join me on Instagram @waitingforbabybird. I can’t wait to “meet” you!