Two hours. That is how long I have been typing. Then deleting. Typing. And then deleting. Typing. Annnd then…? Yep! You guessed it. Deleting. Why can’t I seem to find the words? It’s never this hard. But as I sit here, deleting the original post I had planned to write, and now obviously struggling to write this one, I hear a voice whisper in my ear; it says, “Just write it from the heart.” But, uh? Don’t I already do that? Don’t I always write from the heart? And I do. Every single post is written from that place, but can I be honest for a second? I don’t always write to you about the moments when life gets hard. Or when I feel overwhelmed and stressed. I don’t always share with you the world when everything seems to be turning upside down. Or when I am fearful and worried. Nor do I share when my heart feels like it could shatter at any minute. I don’t. And it’s because I don’t always find it necessary. But tonight, I’m going to listen to my inner voice; I’m going to write to you from the heart.
A heart that is a scary place.
Lately, it won’t stop staring at my circumstances. And it won’t stop whispering words of fear, worry, and heartache. Even now, when I stop writing for a second and listen to my husband read a Bible story to our foster princess in the next room, I can’t help but let my mind wander as I think about our court hearing tomorrow. Needless to say, I can’t stop myself from “going there” in my thoughts; anxiety begins to fill my mind to the brim at the fact that, in the blink of an eye, she could go home. And just like that, without warning, I won’t need to add macaroni and cheese to my grocery list this week. Or the next. And the pretend sandwiches I have gobbled down for breakfast, lunch, and supper for the past 16 months? They won’t be brought to my lap. Or that boo-boo she asks me to pray for every night? They will also no longer need to be said. Or, at least, by me. And lunch for two with Queen Elsa on our front patio? It will immediately become lunch for one.
And it’s hard. Goodness, it’s hard. But life is hard. It’s not easy. It’s painful. And it hurts. However, life today is no different from how life was for me two days ago. This court hearing has been scheduled for months. So why is everything all of a sudden so unbearable? Why is my heart all of a sudden so heavy? The “why” questions are endless. So maybe I should ask the “what” and the “how” questions instead.
For instance, “What’s the cure for my anxious heart?” And “How can I find my way back to hope?” Or, “How can I get back to the place where my faith is so strong that I not only believe I can climb over my mountains but throw them?” Because let’s be real for a second. Trouble will always be present, doubt will always arise, fear will always come, and worry will always want to wrap me up like a warm blanket. So how? How can I protect my heart in this season of uncertainty?
I don’t know.
But these questions eat at me because shouldn’t I know?
Shouldn’t I have the perfect Sunday school answers at the end tip of my tongue?
I feel like I should.
And maybe I do.
But maybe I can’t take my mind off my circumstances long enough to remember them, which is likely. Because at this moment, I honestly can’t think of anything else but the uncertainties of tomorrow and the months to come. I can’t see anything else in my mind but an empty closet where she once hung her clothes. Or an empty bed that she once snuggled inside. I can’t. Or can I? As I pause from writing this to wipe away my tears, I look at my wall, and I see it. There it is. My cure. And it is written on the glass of an old, beat-up window frame. It says…
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God…~John 14:1.”
So tonight, as I turn out the lights and close my eyes, I will rest in the cure. I will stop letting my heart be troubled by thinking and envisioning the moment I no longer have lunch with the Queen. Or the day I don’t get to eat a pretend sandwich for breakfast. Or the first night, I am not able to pray for her every boo-boo. Instead, I will trust. I will trust in His wisdom. In His protection. In His love. In His faithfulness. And ultimately, in His perfect plan. Because I know she isn’t just my little princess, I would do anything to protect her, but she is His little princess too.
My name is Elisha, and I am the founder of Waiting for Baby Bird Ministries, which first began as an infertility blog in 2013. I know the struggle of infertility and loss as me and my husband have been married for 17 years, and despite the last 12 of those years unsuccessfully being able to conceive due to PCOS. However, we continue to stay positive as we believe the Lord for a miracle. However, despite my womb remaining empty after my miscarriage in 2012, my arms have not. In 2017, my husband and I adopted a little girl, now 13, after spending 1,273 days in foster care. My mission is to share my story to inspire and breathe hope into other women facing similar circumstances.
I would love to connect with you personally, so if you liked this post, pass it on. Then go here to find Waiting for Baby Bird on the public Facebook page or join me on Instagram @waitingforbabybird. I can’t wait to “meet” you! If you are looking for a faith-based infertility community of other women who just “get it,” then head over to the *PRIVATE* Waiting for Baby Bird Support group for hope + encouragement. There, you will find opportunities to ask for prayer, share your heart with others on the same path, enter into exclusive giveaways, and so much more! So what are you waiting for? Find us here!