Good News and Clumsy Prayers

I woke up at five, left the house at six and drove four hours to see my doctor. Then, I got back in my car and was home by five in the afternoon. I am exhausted. The drive itself isn't brutal, it's the emotional toll that is overwhelmingly tiring. I got good news, no cysts, and we got the all clear to move on to the next set of injections. But, my doctor is just as confused about why I keep having miscarriages as I am.  She said she hopes this works (it worked the last time she tried it with a patient) and if it doesn't...back to the drawing board we go. So my clumsy prayers are filled with hope and fear. Fear that we have too many follicles and will have to transition into an IVF cycle (something we are just not prepared for in any way, shape, or form) and fear that even if it all looks right on paper, in the end something will still go wrong  and we'll end up with another miscarriage. But, there's still hope. Yesterday, as I sat in the waiting room, I read a devotional from Sarah's Laughter that helped me see a little more clearly.

Have you ever played gin rummy?  I always seemed to get paired up with the best and cockiest player on the block.  I’ll sit and ponder which card to lay down.  With my best bluff face on, I frantically try to remember each and every card each player has laid down and picked up.  If they look closely, they can probably even see the smoke pouring from my ears as my poor brain is trying so desperately to obey the commands I’m giving to decide just which card will win the game for me.  With feigned confidence I not-so-boldly lay my card on the discard pile.  Before my fingerprints have even had time to settle on the card, my opponent snatches it up and glibly proclaims “Thanks!  I can use that!”  I sure hope my disgust isn’t showing too much.  When my turn comes around again, I’m sure that I’ve got em this time.  I’ll hang on to what he needs and I’ll throw something at him that I know is pure garbage.  He’ll never make anything of that.  With that twinkle in his eye, he grins at me and one more time says “Oh great!  Just what I’ve been looking for!  I know I can use that!”  Before long, I’m convinced it doesn’t really matter what I throw at him.  He always finds a way to use it.

Maybe infertility doesn’t seem as easy or as enjoyable as a game of gin rummy, but there is one glaring similarity.  Imagine God as the Master Player in this game we call life.  Satan is His adversary.  To the victor go the spoils and this time the spoils are you.  One by one the cards are dealt.  Satan’s brow is furrowed as he studies his cards.  He’s determined he’ll defeat his opponent.  He holds in his gnarled, vile hand disease, despair, discouragement.  One by one he lays a card on the deck of your life and looks God in the face with an evil smirk.  “She’s infertile, God.  Whatcha gonna do bout that?”  Much to Satan’s wicked, evil surprise, God doesn’t even hesitate:  “Just watch how I can use that.”  Next round--Misunderstanding.  Once again God says  “Not a problem.  I’ll use it to bring them closer to Me.”   “What?  Never mind.”  Satan still has a few tricks up his nasty little sleeve.  But one by one, the Almighty works every card into His master plan and before Satan can even comprehend what has happened, he is once again back in that oh-so-common standing as God’s defeated foe.  No matter what trial he throws in the discard stack, God triumphantly sings out, “I can use that!”  Infertility?  Not a problem.  Marital difficulties?  Just wait and see what the Creator of marriage can bring about!  “Okay--so He can use all these things.  But God, I lost my child.  Even You can’t use that.”  But use it to His glory He will.  

Trust Him with what you understand and with what you don’t.  He’s never failed you.  He never will.

 I get it. Cognitively, I get it. I understand that there's a greater plan unfolding, but I'm tired, I'm numb, I'm weary. Sometimes I feel nothing, sometimes I feel everything. But I'm trying really, really hard to just trust. Trust in Him, trust in the journey, and trust that He'll continue to speak to us and guide us. Thank you for your prayers...their impact is felt daily.