Sunday, January 16, 2011

the blessed life

When I woke up this morning, I honestly thought I’d be stuck in bed all day. I couldn’t move. My body was still in pain and my heart was discouraged. As I lay in bed, I read over my devotionals for the day, praying that God would give me some kind of comfort and relief through the words on the page. But nothing came.

So, I read the devotionals for tomorrow. And the next day. I don’t know what I was looking for really. Maybe an answer for the pain. Maybe some insight to why we have to suffer from this disease.

After shuffling through the days in my devotional book, I reached for my bible. I turned to all the familiar Psalms, the scriptures that I held to for hope and peace. I found some comfort in the words of each verse, but still nothing that calmed my restlessness.

“God, I quit”, I mumbled, as I reluctantly got up to get ready for church. I didn’t want to go today. I wanted to lay in bed and try to escape the pain. But I know I needed to move. I had to get back up again, even if it hurt like hell.

At church, the pastor talked about the blessed life. He pointed out that we are chosen, adopted, and redeemed by a loving God. He talked about how we have more than enough for a good life. And he’s right. I do have a blessed, good life. I have a God who has picked me up out of the pit of self-destruction and despair. He’s amazing. And He loves me.

After church, I met up with friends for lunch. Friends that I have known for a long time. Two women who have known my struggles and heartache through out the years. Two women who have shared their tears and heartache with me as well. There’s Sherrie, who cried to me about her battles with infertility for a long time. Four years later, she now has two miracle boys.

Sherrie & miracle baby #2

 And then my precious and beautiful Kim, who lost her loving father to cancer. The man who served the Lord for years as a pastor, sharing his faith with hundreds. A loss too great for us to understand. All I can do is cry with her and pray that God will comfort her heart.

After meeting with my girlfriends and their families, I set off to cook dinner for Stacey and her husband. The two of them have been awake for about two weeks straight with a newborn. Stacey had a c-section and has been recovering much faster than expected, but is still completely exhausted from the feeding and sleeping habits of a new baby boy. I brought them food tonight and hung out with baby Cody as they ate.

And finally, everything made sense again.

As I held Cody close to me, all of the pain from the Lupron faded away. I remembered why I was going through with the injections of such a horrid drug. I remembered why I was fighting for awareness and hope. I remembered why I kept pushing on to endure.

I want to be a mommy someday. 

I can’t wait until the day when I hold my own little bundle of joy. I can’t wait until I get to stay up all night, unable to sleep because of a newborn’s sleeping habits. I can’t wait to change dirty diapers and do tons of laundry. I can’t wait to pour my life into something meaningful and precious, like the life of a child.

I can’t wait to be a mommy someday.

I can’t wait to look back and know that all this fighting is worth it.

Because it will be, right?


  1. It will be so worth it! And you will be an excellent mother. Your love for God will reflect on them, and it will be beautiful. I have no doubt about that. You're amazing... you are bringing me up out of this horrid rut, and you're not doing anything but loving our Christ-- a true inspiration, friend.

  2. Beautiful friend. I'm glad your day was able to turn around in such an amazing fashion! And you are going to be an amazing mommy someday soon!

  3. Thank you for sharing this beautiful post.

    I have these days too. They are tough. Sometimes it seems so unfair.

    I'm so happy you have your Faith to comfort you & help you.

  4. You are going to be an amazing mom!

  5. Thank you for all your encouragement, ladies. And for all your prayers.

  6. I'm really glad you found me on 20SB. Endo is so frustrating and has been such the challenge. But each woman whom I've met who has been or is struggling has made me stronger. And though we really don't know each other, I hope I can be a support for you.

    Holding you in The Light.