Bear with me

I'm feeling torn. Torn because life isn't simple. Torn because in the midst of all that is good in my life, there continues to be a hole in my heart carved by our lost babies, and a wound that bleeds with tears about the way life 'should' have been.

Days like yesterday are good. At the core of my being I heard the message about being true and present, convicted about embracing the moment and I took it in. I want to change the way I think about my life, but truthfully living in the now does not eliminate the grief, loss and anger about our infertility.

I have to chose to surrender these feelings to God daily. I know that only He can heal my heart, and I imagine that it will be a healing that takes a long time, perhaps it will never fully go away. I am reminded every day of my shortcomings. My inability to fully reflect the joy of Christ to the world. I trust in His words; that God can heal my heart, and be my comfort, "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation” 2 Cor. 1:3-4.

I hope that this healing will begin to transform my heart in the deep places that I try to keep hidden. I am struggling to know how to be good a friend right now, especially struggling to be a good friend to my pregnant friends. At a distance I can send honest congratulations, but hearing about morning sickness and aches and pains of growing bellies hits hard and does not produce the feelings of sympathy and a desire to ease their suffering. I know it 'should' and if I was in a different head or heart space I think it would.

I want to be the friend who genuinely feels compassion for them, but my jealousy, bitterness and deep longing cannot be overthrown that easily. I want to be the friend who offers to take them soup and care for their older children so mama-to-be can get some rest. I want to be that friend, but I am not. Instead of reaching out, I turn inward. I search for those lost feelings of care and love and I pray in earnest for them to come to the surface. I pray that God will transform my heart to look more like his, and for me to have the strength to be the person I was created to be, and love in the way I was created to love.

I do what I can and then I sit and wait. Weak in my own strength, and desperate for the healing touch of the God of all comfort. Searching hard to find the beauty in the confusion. Letting the feeling of being torn make me stronger and not less. Embracing the present, the good, the bad and the ugly. Jumping into the uncomfortable, and hoping I'll find a soft spot to land.

It's a messy life but I trust it will eventually make me a better person, and more importantly a more genuine reflection of Christ. Bear with me friends, there is a lot of work to be done.