But then I thought: "Wait a second. Meeting him earlier
would mean never living in Denver..." I lived in Denver for a year after
college, working as a full-time volunteer and living in community. It was an
incredibly enriching, formative experience. Would I really give that up...?
Wipe that out of my history forever...?
And then I got to thinking: What would I give up? What
part of my past would I say "goodbye" to, if it would help me get
where I want to be now?
And I thought of the other great sorrow I've gone through: a
bad breakup, after four years of dating, in college. I'll spare you the details
– but it was bad. I thought we would get married, but I graduated college
single and without a clear direction. So would I "give up" and get rid of that horrible breakup –
all the tears, the insecurities, the heartache?
Well...it's not that easy. What if I would have married
him...I would have never gone to Denver, never gone to graduate school
afterwards, never met this friend and that friend and my maid of honor and of
course, Mr. M! Even thinking about that possibility made me choke up! I
can't imagine life without so many people that I've met since college, since my
life took a turn I didn't expect.
So then what? I guess I can't have all of these people I love
without going through the breakup?
Wierd! I felt like I was in that movie "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." It's as trippy as it sounds, but such a fascinating idea: after a breakup, a woman uses a new an untested technology to erase all memories of her former boyfriend. But...halfway through the process she realizes that maybe she's decided to give up too much...realizing that the bad and good are so intricately interwoven...I don't want to give away the ending, but I recommend the movie!
| Fun fact about the movie: it stars Jim Carrey in a non-funny role. |
And yet...I picture the day, with much trepidation because it
is so awfully tender, and might never happen...when (if) I look my son or daughter in the face for the first
time...and I know in an instant, without any doubt, that it was you I
was waiting for all this time.
I can only imagine this now, and maybe the reality would be
quite different (or maybe it will never happen)...but something deep within thinks that when I look at my
child, feel their tiny fingers in mine and breathe in their newborn scent, if
someone asked me, "Would you get rid of all of those months/years of
infertility, all the tears, all the longing, all the heartache...? With the
small, small catch that you can't have this child..." I'd clutch my
baby fiercely to me and accept each and every tear, every day and hour of
longing, for your sake.
It reminds me of that scene from C.S. Lewis's Screwtape
Letters, which I'm too lazy to find right now...right after "the
patient" dies...he sees a form, a face, hears a voice, and says "Ah
ha! So it was you all the time! All those times I felt someone
near...all those times I thought I wasn't quite alone...it was you!"
[I have the retro version...very marked up and highlighted...and falling apart.]
So much of life is a mystery...so much is happening that we
can't see with our little puny human eyes...
I'm not saying that I'd like to live through every difficult
experience again. And there are some experiences that are just so bad
that no one should have to go through them, ever. And yet...and
yet...everything is so mixed up together. "Lose the bad...but lose the
good along with it..." Not really a
choice I'd want to embrace. Thank God it's not a choice we have! We're stuck in
time, and can only move forward.
Will I get my "ah-ha!" moment this side of heaven?
I have no idea. Jesus, help me trust that you can bring good out of even
this, that someday, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for
years and years, I'll be able to look back and say "yes, You were there. I
didn't see you, I doubted your presence, but You were there."
+EcceFiat+
I have thought of these things a lot myself. I have thought that if JJ and I got together soomer maybe we would have a child by now but then i would have to give up the missionary work I did and that was such a formative experience for me. It is a good thing we do not get that choice!
ReplyDelete*haha, I meant sooner not soomer.
DeleteI agree! ("it's a good thing we do not get that choice...") Only God sees the big picture, thank God!
DeleteThis is very much how I feel about my husband's deployment. My firstborn was still little when the first time he left for Iraq. My cycles returned just after he left and I would get so resentful. I knew that had he been with me we would either be trying for another baby, or at least hoping it would happen soon. But obviously it wasn't a possibility for us. It's very likely we would have conceived in those months had we been together, but as it happened, my daughter was born nine months after his return. I see her as the greatest blessing that could have come from his deployment. I don't regret it at all in retrospect, even though I was so upset about it at the time. Anyway, having my husband gone for long periods of time have so far been only experience with 'infertility' (if I can call it that, I know it's not exactly the same) but I still think of these times when I hear of someone who is struggling to conceive. I wouldn't take them back, if it meant having children who are different then these ones.
ReplyDeleteMakes sense. The idea that "the good cames with/through the bad" applies to so many things, not just infertility. And while it doesn't sound like you medically were infertile, that must have been hard to wait for a child while your husband was away! And in a dangerous part of the world too. Waiting and surrendering our will to God is so hard.
DeleteI know I have never regretted a good decision... But I wish there were some things I didn't have learn the hard way.
ReplyDeleteGreat post! Not exactly on point, but related-it reminded me of Danielle Rose's song, "Give and Take" about surrending our whole life to God. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=if-hyn63jB4
ReplyDeleteBlessings!
Such a beautiful post. You know I have wrestled with this too. I agree--thank God it's not a choice for us. Thank God He is sovereign, for His plans are greater than our own.
ReplyDeleteI know - I actually thought of one of your posts about RG when I was writing this. Maybe another way of putting what I said is saying, "Every moment - every experience - can teach us something and help us to grow, even if it's not what we want at the time." Of course, that's often only known in retrospect, I guess.
DeleteThinking of how things have worked out in the past - or thinking of what blessings God constantly gives even during times of pain, gives me a lot of confidence to live *this time* in faith and joy, even if it feels like the consolations are few.
I think the trouble with these hypotheticals is that our experiences are so formative for who we are. So if you had married your college sweetheart and were currently pregnant with your fourth child, you would be a different person. Maybe you would have learned the lessons that a difficult marriage has to teach. Or perhaps the lessons that being the mother of a large brood. You would have had other struggles, but you would have had the experiences and the struggles that make you who you are. You would be someone else.
ReplyDeleteSo to wish for that would be wrong, in my mind, because you would literally wishing yourself away. It would be like saying, "I wish I had never been born." I've been there, in my struggles with depression, and trust me, it's an ugly, dark, horrible place to be, wishing that kind of annihilation upon yourself.
Yeah, I get what you're saying (I hope). That's why I described it as a "thought experiment," because you're right - if I had married right after college, obviously I wouldn't be missing the friends and husband I currently have now. I guess for me, thinking in this way helps me to get some needed perspective for what I'm going through right now (infertility) because it's too easy for me to see it as "all bad" when, even now, I do see ways that it has helped me grow into a better person. It's being grateful for the here and now - something I struggle with, at least. It's so easy for me to think "the grass is greener on the other side" without realizing that this is the only life I've got. I don't know, I hope that makes more sense, and I think your comment is exactly right. I guess I was also trying to say (just because the thought occured to me) that wishing away bad parts of my life would get rid of so much good too, and that's kind of a mystery, I think.
DeleteI just re-read my comment, and I think I got my tone wrong. I wasn't trying to suggest that your thought experiment was wrong. I was trying to build on your insights--not contradict them. You were very clear; I was not.
DeleteThat's what happens when I write carelessly and don't proofread!
No problem! Tone is tricky in text. I appreciated your thoughts!
DeleteI will say as a woman who is now a mother (still IF), every single struggle is worth it. It will be worth it. I assure you. It is hard to explain, but even what you imagine it will be like, the reality is infinitely better. Praying for that day to come soon!
ReplyDelete