Wednesday, January 23, 2013

This valley of tears

Some days, the waiting is just more painful than other days. I can't quite figure out why. It's not like anything major happened. Maybe it's hormones? I do know I have two events coming up this weekend where I'll be the only married non-mother, and even though the events in general are things I'm looking forward to, I dread being the odd one out (again). Or maybe it's because Mr. M's birthday is coming up and it's hard to think of celebrating another birthday without a little M. Plus, lately birthdays make that biological clock tick a little bit louder...Or maybe it's just feeling like I'm stuck in a rut, doing the same old thing, never having enough time for things I enjoy, just feeling kind of stagnant.

Whatever it is, today's a day that praying the Salve Regina brings me a lot of comfort, particularly the line that says:

"To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears."

Yep, life lately does feel like a valley of tears, punctuated by way too few valleys of sunshine and smiles. (Can you tell that infertility has really brought out my melancholic temperament?) I guess this prayer always comforts me because it acknowledges that life can be really, really hard. Even as a Christian. Mary knew that - probably more than any of us. This earth is not our final home. Perfect happiness is not found here. I don't think that's "escapist" thinking as much as recognizing that we are pilgrims heading toward a home about which we've only been given fleeting glimpses. And on days like today, I find that comforting.


  1. IF has its hard days and harder days :( Praying for you to feel comfort and peace today!

  2. I'm praying for you, dear. I pray that the Lord will fill your heart. It is so, so wonderful that in these times, your inclination is to pray; the Lord sees that, He knows it's an act of faith.

    And I don't think it is escapist to remember where our final home is, and with whom we are meant to be forever. What a glorious thought! I think it is such a great mercy that the Lord has revealed this to us--and I think he revealed it for just this reason. He knows we need hope, the hope of heaven, when we are downcast. Your willingness to admit that this world is not our final home, is an act of hope.

    I hope your upcoming events will be times of peace. I'll be praying for you.

  3. IF is one unpredictable roller coaster of emotions. As soon as I've figured out how I think I will react to something, I'm usually caught completely off guard. Occasionally for the better, more often for the not-so-better.

    I left this song link on another blog this week, and I think it is appropriate for this one too - This world is really not our home.