in line…how long?

I’ve waited for You.  I’ve been here a long time.  Here in this place of desperate prayers, an unanswered call, a hope deferred. My tears have dried , it’s an effort to cry…I’ve been here so long. In the waiting. Do You see me here? I’ve  watched others pray for, carry, deliver and name babies…sometimes more than once..while I’ve waited here…for this unfulfilled promise. This unmanifested  dream.  I’ve waited.  At baby showers and hospitals, in the clutter-filled homes of new parents…I’ve watched and waited for my turn.

What will I do if I never receive this believed for gift? What will I do, if in your perfect plan, this….this gift of childbirth is one I’ll never receive?

I had to go there.  Let my doubt complete its course, rushing through me like a super charged fuel…burning the things in me, that are not like You. This painful process had to take place before I could respond. The answer could shake the very foundation of my faith, leaving me wandering, nameless in a foreign land. I wouldn’t be the first barren woman to curse You and walk way. Broken-hearted and bitter but homeless….when you’ve been my shelter, my center for so long. Infertility  is particularly hard on the Christian woman. So it got ugly before any semblance of beauty was revealed.

Yet even in my waiting I longed for you and angrily became more devoted to you.  How can this be? A crazy paradox…another God thing? Yes. Even in the struggle, the hurt and complete lack of understanding…you were there to be found.  Could this be a foretaste of  the sweet peace promised in surrender?

You pulled me along through service in the dance ministry.  I ministered to the hearts of others while the smooth muscle of my own was lovingly restored. The heart of a barren woman doubts and I doubted you all along  – even as I danced. Wondering all the while if I’ve put my trust in a God who won’t deliver on a promise , a God who would watch me suffer, watch me wait,  watch me die if it meant I’d walk away from Him.

Sometimes my dance was wild…the disturbingly turbulent dance of a warrior refusing defeat. Victory is hard-fought but seemingly assured, dangling like a carrot before her  and so….the warrior dances. Sometimes I danced a lullaby to my soul…tender movements rocking me to rest and temporarily quieting my fears. Other times I danced a dance of stillness..the dance of such subtle movement …movements evidenced only by tears streaming down my face.  I felt the healing flow through me and then to others. I was caught in the grace of that healing.  It called me back, time and again.  After ministry, veiled in sweat and cleansed by tears, I’d hear you. Speaking sweet words of love to my soul, love that you had poured out of me in the dance – faithfully replenished.  I was pushed out of my comfort zone, called to dance past my doubts and insecurities… you wanted a vessel and though broken I danced.  I was still waiting. Years went by like this.  My very survival was dependent on the dance. I didn’t know it, but I was dancing for my life. Dear Lord the healing was my own.

It was never about the thing I wanted .  It was never about that hoped for baby. The one I loved more than you.  The one that clouded my vision and made me feel ugly and defeated while in pursuit of her.  It wasn’t about the baby. It was You…always in pursuit of me.  Willing to chase me down…hot on my heels because Your word cannot lie and You are always faithful to complete the work You start.

I needed the healing only You could give. I needed to put down the idol and walk away from the altar.  I had to learn to walk away from the baby, with deaf ears and an aching heart…I had to learn how to walk away – even if I felt ineffective as a Christian, even if that season of unanswered prayer echoed a resounding No. Not now. Perhaps not ever.

I am humbled even now as I type these words….words that someone needs to hear. Oh dear one…once upon a time, that someone was me. Lovely maiden, hear me when I say this,in the most gentle way I can….it’s not about the baby. You have a destiny and there is a plan for your life. Draw close to Him – especially when you don’t feel like it. Let Him wrap you in His arms while you sit quietly…attentive and listening for instruction. You’ll hear it…your very own song. Listen for the redemptive expression that is yours alone. It’s there you’ll find healing.

Are you in the waiting? In what capacity have you been called to serve?  What is your redemptive expression? 

I’ve linked up with the lovely Amanda at www.aroyaldaughter.com because I Desire to Inspire.