Sunday Sentiments is an attempt to record what God has been teaching me and the way in which He does it.
This has been a strange week. I could not have predicted last Sunday all the following days would hold.
The terror of hearing the words, "it might be leukemia."
The helplessness of being so far from my family, yet knowing my proximity wouldn't have the power to change the outcome anyway.
The prayers and encouragement and caring from so many as my family waited.
The joy of learning that the doctor believes my dad has a colon infection instead. We're not out of the woods yet but we are so relieved the oncologist doesn't think cancer is indicated.
The knowledge that God would still be good and faithful even if the outcome had been different.
This last piece was heightened yesterday as I sat with a friend who is miscarrying her child. She and her husband have been walking the road of infertility. She knew this pregnancy could change at any moment but the change was still a surprise. I told her no matter how much we expect the worst to happen or prepare for disappointment, that moment is always a surprise. We always hold a shred of hope that we will be wrong.
And I so wish that we were wrong here. I wish I could take away her pain and do more than unload groceries and hand her kleenex.
I wish that we were seeing God's goodness and faithfulness in the way that we want, in the way that results in a healthy and viable pregnancy. Logic and heart are not lined up yet. She can speak of God's ways; it's almost a reminder. Reminding her heart that this is not the end. This is the season of waiting. This is their advent. She is reminding herself of the lesson she's been learning: there is beauty in the time of waiting.
There are similarities between those who desire to have a child and those who desire to be married. We are waiting without assurance for that which we wait.
As I spoke with my friend, I thought that if my singleness could be the trade off for her child, I would stay single. I know that's not how it works. There's no either/or clause, no bargaining to be had with God. My heart is broken for my friend and this has allowed me to see beyond myself. Her pain matters more than mine.
For now she mourns what would be. I believe that another child is in her future, whether biological or adoptive. However her story continues to unfold, I know we will continue to see God's hand in it. For that matter, I will continue to see God's hand in my own story and I will taste and know of His goodness.