In The Meantime- Part 1: I See You

Recently, in a group setting, a friend shared some seriously tough things she is dealing with. At the end of her story she said, “But it’ll all be OK.” Another woman in the group replied with, “Yay, but in the meantime…” I didn’t hear how she finished. My mind instantly started thinking about the first half of her sentence. When I’m going through tough stuff I often feel it’s necessary to wrap a nice bow on my circumstances, and tell everyone that “God is good” or “I know I’ll be stronger in the end” or “It’ll all be OK one day". In actuality, sometimes there’s a very long meantime.

I See You

As Andy Williams sings it best, “It’s the most wonderful time of year!” But not for everyone.

I see you friend who is hurting. I see you friend who is struggling with anxiety, fear, and depression. I see you friend who desperately wants to conceive. I see you friend going through a miscarriage. I see you friend whose baby should have been in your arms this holiday season. I see you friend who lost your husband to an insane tragedy. I see you friend whose mother is in Heaven, and not with you. I see you friend who lives overseas and suffers with loneliness. I see you friend who deals with intense stress over seeing family during the holidays. I see you friend who would rather stay home with your family then have to travel with little ones. I see you friend whose husband is fighting for our country, and can’t be by your side. I see you single friend who aches to have a man by your side. I see you friend whose boyfriend broke your heart. I see you friend whose child is diagnosed with the unthinkable.   

I see you. I see you. I see you. You are not alone.

Exactly three years ago, that was me.

(Have you seen Inside Out?! So good!)

Maybe it was my thousandth pregnancy test. It felt like thousands. It felt like millions. And that day was no different. “Not Pregnant” flashed across the tiny screen, mocking me. Mocking my hopes. Mocking my dreams. Cutting my heart like a knife. Since one normally takes a pregnancy test in quite an undignified position, the surroundings of a bathroom only seemed to make the negative results that much more unbearable.  

That particular day, I had reached my utmost limit of pain. After two years of “trying” to get pregnant, after two babies had come and gone in the blink of an eye, my heart couldn’t bare it anymore. I collapsed into a heap on the floor. I fell halfway between the bathroom and hallway. My feet laid weak on the tile, while my head rested on the sterile beige carpet. The sobs wracked me. Absolutely shook my body. The pain was too great to contain so the sounds that escaped my throat were unrecognizable. The wails that came out of me sounded like a wounded animal about to die. The sounds scared me. Those sounds still haunt me.

Christmas was just weeks away, and our second baby would have been due right around that time. I often wonder about my first two children. What are their genders? What are their personalities? I find myself feeling bad for our second baby. There was a lot of grief hoopla over our first lost baby. But when we lost the second, I didn’t have it in me to grieve that deeply and darkly again. I was afraid I wouldn’t survive. Our second baby holds his/her own special place in my heart. He/she was due at Christmas time. We would have had a Christmas baby. A Christmas will never pass by where I won’t ponder that sweet second child. He/she is very real. Very much alive in the sweet arms of Jesus.  

I guess I thought a positive pregnancy test would dull the ache I felt over our losses. I lived to see a positive pregnancy test. It was all-consuming. My heart knew no other desire. But Jesus knew. He has always shown up to guide the way, but never how I would have imagined.

That year He unexpectedly showed up through the eyes of a little boy named Samuel.