Hold It Up To The Light

Well, I'm back. I hope to do a better job of posting now.

It's been a crazy few weeks. I quit my job, went on a couple of short trips, started a new job, and started the In Vitro Fertilization process. I haven't been near a computer much, but now that I'm back to a more normal schedule, I think blogging will be easier.

I've been on quite a faith journey recently. It began in April as I wrestled with whether or not to do IVF. I was gardening one Saturday and listening to my husband's new iPod. A song came on by David Wilcox that I had never heard before. It is called "Hold It Up to the Light". Here are the words:

It's the choice of a lifetime - I'm almost sure
I will not live my life in between anymore
If I can't be certain of all that's in store
This far it feels so right
I will hold it up - hold it up to the light,
Hold it up to the light, hold it up to the light

The search for my future has brought me here
This is more than I'd hoped for, but sometimes I fear
That the choice I was made for will someday appear
And I'll be too late for that flight
So hold it up - hold it up to the light,
Hold it up to the light, hold it up to the light

It's too late - to be stopped at the crossroads
Each life here - a possible way
But wait - and they all will be lost roads
Each road's getting shorter the longer I stay

Now as soon as I'm moving - my choice is good
This way comes through right where I prayed that it would
If I keep my eyes open and look where I should
Somehow all of the signs are in sight
If I hold it up to the light

I said God, will you bless this decision?
I'm scared, Is my life at stake?
But I see if you gave me a vision
Would I never have reason to use my faith?

I was dead with deciding - afraid to choose
I was mourning the loss of the choices I'd lose
But there's no choice at all if I don't make my move
And trust that the timing is right
Yes and hold it up hold it up to the light
Hold it up to the light, hold it up to the light

Even now as I read back on the words, my eyes well up with tears. It was such the perfect song for me in my moment of deciding. The verse in bold really got me. I was listening to the live version of the song, and during an instrumental interlude David Wilcox begins sort of poetically talking. He mentions "The Road Less Traveled By" by Robert Frost and talks about how he has realized in retrsopect that both roads would have been ok because God would have been on both roads with him (major paraphrase). He says that it is only in retrospect that he sees he was on the "right" road. For some reason, this resonated with me and I felt like God was telling me this IVF path is ok. I needed His approval, and in that moment, I felt like He gave it to me.

However, I've continued to wrestle with my feelings and fears about the "what ifs". Of course, my main fear is, "What if this doesn't work?" I had a moment one day while reading "When the Heart Waits" by Sue Monk Kidd where I realized that part of my belief is that God is not going to give me a child because infertility is what will require the most faith of me.

I haven't always wanted to be a doctor or accountant or counselor or teacher. But I've always wanted to be a Mom. And what I've realized is that being a Mom may be the one thing He withholds from me because I want it most. It feels cruel to me at times and I've been angry with Him. But I also realize that He really does work this way in people's lives when He is calling them to a greater level of trust and faith. To say it another way, having kids is my Isaac that He is asking me to lay on the altar. With no guarantee of a ram.

So I continue to wrestle. Part of me, the holy part, desires to embrace that truth and lay it all on the altar for His glory. That feels really good to me. It resonates with something deep in me that speaks a peace beyond understanding. It doesn't release me of my fears, but it feels right. Then there is another part of me, the human part, that is screaming from the top of its lungs, "Don't ask this of me, Lord. Please, not this." The weight of that kind of loss feels so heavy. So painful. And so I wrestle.

We'll know in a few short weeks where this current path will lead. I take great comfort in knowing that God already knows the outcome. He is still in control.

I'm thankful for the struggling and what it produces in me. May it bring some glory to Him.