for this child...

"For this child we have prayed and the Lord has granted us the desires of our hearts."
-1 Samuel 1:27

At the beginning of 2015 we were challenged by our pastor to write down what we wanted God to do in our lives throughout the rest of the year. That night, as Coy and I lay in bed, we made a list. My list was filled with many things, with the constant theme centered around God blessing us with a baby this year. I also asked that God would use our journey to bring others closer to Him and that my story would show others the love and constant faithful of Jesus, even without the blessing of a baby.

Little did I know that just a few short months later God would grant us the greatest desire of our hearts after almost 4 years of waiting. (If you have missed our story up until this point you can catch up here, here, here, and here.) Looking back, this journey has been excruciating at times. It included more tears than I'd like to remember, too much heartache and disappointment to measure, and so much sorrow and confusion. And yet...looking back I can see God's hand in all of it. Yes, there were times when I turned away, angry at God; when I questioned His goodness, His love, and His mercy; and yes, there were times when I gave up praying up altogether because I had run out of the strength to pray again for a baby that never seemed like it would come. But it was in those times where His love was at it strongest. These times were when he kept us afloat. These were the times when others continued to pray for our miracle when we had run out prayers and hope.

And through all of the unanswered requests and confusion God remained faithful. Even in our darkest moments God's love never left our side. His presence was always there and His arms were always open. And I truly believe in my heart that even if we had not been able to conceive I would still be standing here now saying the same thing. We had heard so many stories of couples who had finally just given up and surrendered to the fact that they would live their lives without children and shortly after found out they were pregnant. And yet, as hard as we tried to force this feeling into our own lives it was not something that could be forced. It was a process. A process which was completed without us even knowing it. For years, my prayers were that I could fully surrender...and at times it felt like I had given our infertility completely to God... but then situations would arise and my own control would float to the surface again. Earlier this year was a time when I was feeling particularly good...happy, content, peaceful...and feeling like I had finally reached the place of full surrender. And then something happened...I un-expectantly hit rock bottom. I received a call from my sister with the joyous news that she was pregnant for the 4th time. Which is beautifully wonderful news, except when this news keeps happening to everyone else around you, except you. And just like that...all my peace and contentment was gone in an instant. I was alone when I got the news, which at the time made me angry but later realized that was probably a blessing. In that moment I lost all control. I cried harder and more than I probably have in my entire life. For the rest of the afternoon the tears would.not.stop. I literally felt as though I could not go on. I was out of strength. I was completely dry and empty and felt like I had nothing left. I cried out to God in a way that I had not done before. I pleaded with him to take this pain away from me. I begged him to take the desire for my own child away. I was desperate. I thought I had felt desperate before but this was a desperation like one I had never known. Through my tears I pleaded for perseverance and fell before him without any strength left in my body, heart, or spirit. It was official...I was empty. Looking back I was certain I had felt an emptiness like none other but little did I know I had much, much more that needed to be surrendered to God. I was completely empty. And while being empty is not a great place to be, being empty meant that I was ready to be filled by God and only God. And it was from this place of emptiness that God began to fill both Coy and I. It was from this moment on that we both began a process unbeknownst to us...we were moving on with our lives in a posture of surrender. Not a forced surrender or one that we planned and with great effort put into it, but almost a surrender that just happened and just was. From emptiness came a new and different type of hope and trust in the Lord. We had not given up on our hope for a baby but looking back we had both put our trust in God in a way we had not done before and therefore the daily struggle of infertility almost melted away and we lived our lives with a new sense of peace. We trusted God fully. He had taken care of us this far and we knew he would continue to do so. We were happy, content, and filled with peace. And all of this seemed to happen without us even knowing it- almost as if we woke up one day and suddenly realized that we would survive and life would go on and be beautiful and the Lord would continue to bless us...even without the baby we had been praying for.

So a few months later, when we finally received the biggest desire of our hearts it was truly when we least expected it. Since this moment our reliance on God has continued to be strengthened. We are continually learning that trusting in him can never cease. It is a daily choice and one we must both consciously choose.

The past almost four years have been some of the most difficult of my life. And yet, I never want to forget this journey...our journey. Our journey with each other, with Coy and I growing closer to each other through our silent pain. Our journey with God, with the ups and downs and everything in between. And our journey with others, because it is my constant hope that my journey has meant something to the others who have heard it. While forgetting would mean leaving behind all of the pain and tears it would also mean forgetting the reliance on God we have learned. Forgetting would mean taking away all of the pruning and working God did in our lives during this time. It would mean forgetting about the way He picked me up from my broken emptiness and restored and healed me so that I would be ready for his biggest blessing. My prayer is that I will always remember this struggle, a struggle that so many women face and yet many never receive the blessing we have been given. I pray that I will not just always remember this struggle and this journey but that I will use my story to show others the constant faithfulness of God. Because without him I cannot imagine how different this journey would have looked.

We have been so blessed with this precious gift and cannot wait to meet our little miracle in February!