Forgive me for not posting much lately. My allergies have been acting up.
Once upon a time I used to love labor and delivery shows on the TLC.channel...but then our loss happened and I became severely allergic. Just the thought puts me in postpartum depression.
Now, I've discovered that I'm becoming allergic to most things pregnancy related. Truthfully, I never thought that I would be one of "those" interfiles and I'm a little miffed that it's happening but...I guess that it's been a painful month so I'm allowed a few allergic reactions. I've been trying to take care of myself and work through it. It seems like more and more of my favorite infertility blogs are turning into pregnancy blogs...which is awesome...although, a bit sad for me. So, I recognize my limits and haven't been blogging as much.
Before all of this, I think that I used to be a pretty funny and sharp person. Witty. Now...not so much. Occasionally, I'll have a deep thought though and today this is it:
Sometimes I get frustrated over the injustice of it all. For example, today as Mr. Thompson was making an adorable little baby laugh in church I couldn't help but think (AGAIN!) that he is such a great father. When I came home and saw another news story about an abused child dying I wanted to scream out loud at the injustice of it all.
Instead, I had to have a stern conversation with myself (AGAIN!) as a reminder that the Lord is not being unfair in his distribution of children. They aren't like little gold stars being passed out by a teacher for good behavior. Neither the presence or absence of children is an outward sign of a couple's worthiness to be parents. That realization was a breakthrough for me.
Another breakthrough happened yesterday when I saw this on Savor The Moment (thanks Ashley!) :
Perhaps the arrival of children depends more on the timing and circumstance that is best suited for that child's destiny.
Big. I know.
Think of Elisabeth and Zacharias, the parents of John the Baptist. They were valiant and good people. They righteously desired a child but were denied that for a very-very long time. It had to be frustrating and hard for them, living in a culture that prized fertility, expecting to reap the blessings of a righteous life, and having their faith severely tested as they faced the end of their childbearing years. I wondered if they questioned their own worthiness. I wonder if they tried to bury themselves in perfecting and qualifying themselves in hopes that their efforts would finally be fruitful. I wonder if they felt the scrutiny of others who may have suggested that more faith, more obedience, more something might hold the key to success.
The reality of the situation is that they were appointed to be the parents of John the Baptist, the prophet who would usher in the birth of Jesus Christ. The timing of John's birth was essential to his mission in life. He was to come 6 months before Jesus was born, at a time when Elisabeth was very old. No matter how faithful Elisabeth was, how much desire and faith she had, no matter how much she fasted and prayed and pleaded....this birth could not have been expedited. The timing had to fulfil a higher plan and purpose. When the time was right, the miracle finally occurred.
I think about my own life and timing. What if I had been born at another time, in another place, to another family? What if I had even been born a year (or two) earlier...would I have had the same experiences? Met the same friends? Married the same man?
Which is why I now take great comfort in the fact that it's a timing thing...not a worthiness thing.
How you like "them apples" for an allergy cure?
1 day ago