waiting on Isaac...or something of the sort

I wrote this blog a few nights ago, but it touched something so raw in me that I had to sit on it a couple of days to assess whether it was okay to feel this way. I don't really know the answer to that yet. I do know that being honest exposes my weaknesses, my insecurities, my doubts. I also know that Christ is all sufficient and that there is grace to grow out of all things not of Him. So, once again it's where I am and not a glazed over version of where I've been.

The other night I told Jonathan how I was feeling about this whole "waiting on baby" thing. I think it was a little shocking to him. He expected I should have the same contentment as I did before this last scenario played out. After all, in October I thought that the Lord told me our baby would come in April. (side note: I did initially pitch a royal fit before the Lord because I couldn't imagine surviving 6 more months without my sweet baby in my arms). Before we got "the call" in January, I was cruising until the spring when I was sure the hope of my baby's arrival would blossom into existence in pace with everything else beautiful and new. I was so convinced she will arrive in April I expected the January call to be about a baby due in April and was surprised to learn of a February baby instead. Anyway, five weeks of stirring up all of the motherly emotions I had intentionally let lay dormant for so long and I no longer felt so content to trust that there is hope in April, or any other near month for that matter. As I poured out all of the random things I have felt over the last week to my poor husband, I started to unveil for myself what I feel like is the deep-seeded source of it all.

I have never, in my life, had to wait and long for anything before now.

And, quite honestly, now that I'm doing it, I'm glad I've dodged it until now because spirit-refining and character-shaping doesn't feel too pleasant at all. (though I'm grateful for who it is making me)

I went to college a year early, I married at 19, I had a surprise baby 2.5 years later. If anything, I have always done everything a little earlier than expected. I have never trudged through "always a bridesmaid never a bride." I have never gone to wealths of baby showers with naive people asking when I was finally going to have a baby--not knowing I had desperately been hoping and trying for months or even years. I have never, ever had to feel the painful ache of longing for something that only God can bring to pass. That is, until now. Truly, truly waiting on God to move is something I'm not used to. And...being so new to the field, there are a few things emotionally and spiritually for me to sort out.

Exhibit A: I'm trying to figure out how to sit in the balance of grace instead of offense when people attempt to console me with, "Are you sure you don't want to just get pregnant instead?" The walk of obedience isn't easy, but please don't think Hagar produced the fruition of God's promise to Sarah and Abraham. A substitute won't fix this ache. This isn't just about "a" baby, it's about this baby--the one the Lord aligned our hearts over, the one we feel He promised us, the one I long for.

I'm trying to figure out how to reject feelings of contempt when people not dreaming of a baby the day I signed that first piece of adoption paperwork have now journeyed through entire pregnancies and newborn stages. My emotions are not directed at the innocent bystanders---but at my situation. Weariness at the fact that I feel like I have this never ending pregnancy with a child I'm desperate to bring forth and can't yet.

I'm trying to learn what it means to yearn for God's presence when so often all I long for is His blessing. I'm trying to learn what it means to long for the face of Jesus with the same ache I feel about bringing home my baby girl.

And...these are all hard lessons I need, whether I like it or not. I need to know the feeling of loss--loss of control, loss of desires unfulfilled, loss of all of the things I naively thought I possessed when nothing has changed at all. The Lord still reigns on high. The Lord is still writing my story. I'm just realizing I'm not really the editor after all.

Everyone loves a happy ending, so I hope I've ached long enough soon. And God, please, please don't stretch me to the point of laughter when you finally say it's time.