Sunday, October 24, 2010

The desires of my heart

Sunday is church day. It is the day of rest, the one time in the week when most of us actually get the chance to relax. Families spend time together on this day. We all get to step away from the busy week schedule for a change.

Sundays remind me of how badly I want a family. When I am at church, I try not to look around at those holding babies and the hands of their children. I don’t want to scare anyone with a sudden outburst of tears. I want a husband and a child of my own. I want to be a mom. I want this dream more than anything in the world. These thoughts don’t just come to me at church or on sundays, they invade my mind almost every minute of the day. It doesn’t matter what I am doing, where I am, or who I am with. I can’t escape this aching.

This morning at church, the pastor talked about living a life of radical generosity. He was talking about extravagant gifts, using the example of the woman who poured expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet as an act of love and worship. He said that we could be “self-seeking hoarders” or “Christ-seeking worshippers” with our resources. I found myself disconnecting to this message at the beginning because I am not a hoarder. I don’t care about obtaining a lot of money. I make a good living and I am blessed to be able to give to others. It is not hard for me to give.

Then the pastor took the message a step further. He asked the congregation what we were all holding onto, what our most precious desires were. For most people, I guess money would be ranked near the top. But my most precious desire is the dream of having a family. I want a child of my own to love. I want a husband to love us both.

As the pastor continued to preach, I didn’t hear much of anything else. I was trying not to cry. I was trying to hold myself together. Yes, I’m a little hormonal right now, but that doesn’t change my dreams.

I have a question that has been gnawing at my heart lately. I haven’t asked anyone because part of me doesn’t want to know the answer. In regards, to giving my heart’s desires, does that mean that God would want my dream of being a mom? If the Lord asks EVERYTHING of us, then does that mean that  He really wants me to get to the point of saying, “okay, God, I don’t want this dream anymore, I just want You”???

If that is true, then why did God even give me the desire to be mother?

In the past, I have thought that if it really comes down to living a life of singleness with no child, then I would do missions in an orphanage in some other part of the world. I have a friend who just built an orphanage with her husband in Tanzania. They leave in Florida, but they have “house mothers” who take care of the orphans. She told me the other day that I could be one their “house mothers” if I never had my own family.

My heart goes out to the many orphans in Tanzania. And I will probably do short-term mission trips to the country in the near future. However, I don’t want to be a “house mother” in Africa. I want to be a mommy to my own baby here at home in America.

Does that make me a “self-seeking hoarder”? Or does that just make me a woman? 

I know that I could live my whole life single and without a child. I know that it would be incredibly painful for me to endure, but I could do it. However, I know that if God turned His back on me, the pain would be far worse to endure.  

Without God in my life, I would be hopeless. I need Him. I need to feel loved by Him. I need His strength. I don’t know what my pastor would say about my desires being selfish or not, but I find comfort in knowing that the God who created and formed me placed these desires to be a mother in my heart. He knows my heartache. 

1 comment:

  1. Oh lady! I ahve asked myself this same question so many times, and the truth is that I don't have an answer. But I don't believe got CHOSE this for me, or for you either. I just don't believe it.

    If I could never have a child though, I would do the same as you. I would spend the rest of my life traveling and helping children around the world. It would be the only thing left I would know how to do.