Monday, April 16, 2012

Hope

Being pregnant this time around has been tough. Though God certainly worked in my life to shape me, change me, and renew me as he led me through the wilderness, He also opened up brokenness in other pieces of my heart. Figuring out what to "hope for" has been extremely difficult.

The old me would have flipped my Bible open to Hebrews 11:1 and given myself a good, holy pep-talk on how God was just waiting for me to show some real faith before He could show up and do some truly God-sized work in my life to prove to others His faithfulness and goodness in all things. However the new me realized that He had already been faithful, that He already was good, and the reason He inspired the penning of Hebrews 11:1 had NOTHING to do with whether or not I was going to carry this baby to term.

My hope is now (prayerfully) placed in my eternal salvation, regardless of my current circumstances, but the daily walking out of my faith has been such a struggle, knowing that He was good on the day He brought E into our lives as a healthy little 7-lb bundle of joy and also good on the day I placed my finger into the tiny hand of our little Jeremiah. And this goodness is not defined by whether or not life is fair, whether or not I'm getting what I deserved, whether or not the cards I've been dealt look particularly advantageous. It's good because He knows what I need, good because He loves me and desires the best for me, good because His view is eternity and He has granted me full access to Him for all of it.

(Warning: This is a stupid analogy, but it's the best I can come up with at the moment.) It's kind of like the difference in perspective that I and Elle have when she asks for a piece of candy. Sometimes I say yes and sometimes I say no, based on my ability to weigh and calculate the answers to a series of questions - How many sweets has she had today? What are the chances that she will have dessert tonight after dinner? How is her mood? Has she been sick? Her immature thinking may lead her to think I'm not good to her if I don't give her a piece of candy, but the truth is that I love to give her things that make her happy - but only with the bigger picture of her overall health in mind. Likewise (re-read above warning), God loves to give His children things that make us happy - only with the bigger picture in mind of our overall salvation and justification in the even greater metanarrative of redeeming the whole world to Himself.

So this pregnancy has been rather difficult as I have grown to learn that God's "best" and God's "goodness" and God's "love and mercy" toward me doesn't always match up with my (or others') estimation of what seems fair or what I might deserve or what God will or will not do for me if I "ask in His name" and have a particular amount of faith. I have tasted that God's goodness could lead to many different outcomes that I may or may not particularly like, and it's led to a struggle for joy on some days as I worry (obsess) over the small things that I imagine are under my control that could potentially lead to a positive or negative pregnancy outcome - Did I workout too much today? Did I eat too many sweets? What about the preservatives in that soup? Should I be handling these cleaners? Should we be installing carpet? Am I getting enough sleep? Should I be carrying E around? Why does my _________ hurt? Because I've felt so out of control of the greater outcome, I've gone to battle daily with control issues regarding the menial things - and confessing my sin of control with one while in the midst of engaging in sin with another. The short of it is that most days, I am just simply looking forward to the end of this pregnancy rather than being able to truly enjoy the process of it.

And throughout it all - on the advice of my dear friend C, I have run to the Psalms. As she put it, "the psalms are so comforting because they express the highest and the lowest of emotions and remind us that we are not the first believers to try to navigate Who God is in the midst of it all." And this past Sunday, as one of our deacons read from Psalm 40, I was comforted once again by David and reminded that part of the reason for my journey is to confess and share with others so that God can also encourage and uplift those around me who are on similar journeys.
I waited patiently for the Lord;
    he inclined to me and heard my cry.
He drew me up from the pit of destruction,

    out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
     making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth,

    a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear,
    and put their trust in the Lord.

I have not hidden your deliverance within my heart;

    I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation;
I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness
    from the great congregation.

Psalm 40:1-3,10

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