Recently I listened to the Allender Center Podcast, where Dan Allender talks with Jeanette White about the grief of miscarriage. While I have never had a miscarriage, that kind of loss seems to share similar themes to what we have walked through. Jeanette talked about how people told her how brave and courageous she was. People have told us how patient and graceful we have been in the waiting. What Jeanette said resonated with me so much. She never saw it that way, cause in reality it was simply what they had to do. They couldn't not do it. Which is true of us in the waiting, I don't see us being any of those kind things people say that we are. We just have to do it, there is no escaping the waiting.
Dan's response to her not accepting these things about their journey was one I never would of thought of He said that "human hearts can shut down, to join evil - in one sense killing all hope. So whatever kept hope alive, the presence of God, presence of your husband, presence of other family, presence of community - bottom line you had suffered on going with hope in hopeless time." She responded with a knowing sign and said that the term suffering hope feels about right.
To be honest, I think part of me hasn't started our nursery because its easier to pretend. Pretend we are not 16 months into waiting for our child, because then we wouldn't have the focus on what we don't have. So, marking the calendar of when to paint and get nursery furniture feels a little scary. If we have an empty nursery waiting, then we have a very visible presence in what Jeanette calls "suffering hope". We have hope, but it doesn't make it easy to be without this desire to have a child as a part of our family. Then, I think of my friend Rebecca, who went through many years of infertility. She used their spare room (future nursery) to pray in. I like that idea a lot, a space that is shared for our child and for me as we wait.
This update may seem a little more down than normal. To be transparent, updates sometimes come on days where I do feel that way. It's been a harder these days lately. Just a simple knowing hug from a dear friend had me in tears on Sunday at church. And another tossed her little boy into my arms for comfort as my tears rolls onto his sweet bald head. So there is comfort, the keeping hope alive as we learn from this time of suffering hope. Thank you those who keep that hope a live for us on the hard days, means more than you know.