Wisteria

Here's one of the blooms on the Wisteria plant. You can see the burned leaves just above it.

By the Way

It's raining today!!!

Plano hasn't seen rain since July 4th.

The rain matches my mood and it is wonderful.

Pslam 72:6 He will be like rain falling on a mown field,
like showers watering the earth.

The Life I Always Wanted; Only, Nobody Told Me

Why, oh why can't I just accept the life God has given me?

I feel this message in every fiber of my being: "I plan your life, my child. Not you." Why isn't that enough for me? It should be enough. In fact, I should be thrilled!

That's where I'm at today. Struggling to embrace the life I have instead of the life I want.

Only one life and soon it will pass. Only what's done for Jesus will last.

A "Psalm 1" Lesson

My friend Laura said that this is my space to write what I want. So I am. I'm puking all over the page today. Close the page if the smell is too strong!

I woke up this morning replaying conversations I had with my husband's family this weekend. I'd say they are getting a firm F- in the sensitivity department. Thankfully, my husband and I hammered through some things last week before spending the whole weekend with all of them. It felt so good to me to have him confirm some behaviors his mom has displayed toward me. I wasn't satisfied in knowing she has those behaviors, I was satisfied in hearing my husband agree with me on this topic for a change.

Of all the people in my life, John's family has handled my infertility the worst. About the same time I was attempting IVF, my sister-in-law was announcing her pregnancy. That was quite a blow. She's more than 10 years younger and has often said she didn't really want to be a mom. All I've ever wanted to do was be a mom. And now look at us....

Anyway, I was given the opportunity this weekend to express my hurt and disappointment to my mother-in-law over their unreasonable expectation that I begin throwing confetti for my sister-in-law's pregnancy. I'd say I got a firm B-/C+ in how I handled that conversation. But it felt really good to get it out. One of the things I like about my mother-in-law is that we can be honest with each other about our feelings usually.

The problem is.... I woke up this morning feeling more bitter and angry with all of them. I lay in bed replaying the conversations over the last few months. As I thought about some of the things they've said recently, I became angrier and angrier. So then I had this wave of disgust come over me at my angry heart. I don't want to be that angry person. But what do I want?

Almost every morning when I come to work, I water some newly planted Wisteria plants. As I watered this morning, I let the guard down on my heart a little and thought through some of what is going on in me. I can identify some of what I want that I have no control over: to be a mom, to have a different sister-in-law, to have a fulfulling job, to have a husband following Christ. What I realized is that for the most part, these aren't bad things (maybe I shouldn't say different sister-in-law... just a nicer one would do). However, my tried and true mode of operation is in full force. I'm terrible at just sitting with my longings. I have to stomp my foot and demand. John's family's treatment of our infertility has felt downright cruel at times. So I've crossed my arms and said, "You don't want to embrace my grief? You don't want to hear the depth of sadness in my heart? It's all too inconvenient for you? Fine. No problem. But you will pay." ugh.

I don't like that I have to have all this grief, I don't get to be a mom, I have to watch everyone I know get pregnant with no difficulty, AND God expects me to handle it all well. It feels so unfair. Pity party deluxe today.

But as I was watering the plants, I noticed something. We planted Wisteria plants at the worst possible time of year - late July in Texas! And to make matters worse, this is Dallas' hottest summer on record. So I've watered these new Wisteria plants a lot over the last few weeks. I've been discouraged because the leaves are looking so brown. The sun is fierce. Even with all the watering and care, pieces of the plants are burning. But today I noticed a beautiful purple bloom on one of the plants! I was so surprised and pleased. And it is one of the plants I've worried most about because it's in the sun more than the others.

So many analogies come to mind, but what I snatched and stored in my heart is this: Even though the sun is fierce and I'm hot and tired, going back to God consistently for water will produce beautiful blooms in me. Some of my leaves are still going to burn. We do live outside the Garden afterall. But both blooms and burned leaves can exist at the same time. I can have new growth and old hurts working together to make me who I am. I'm not pristinely green, but my plant is still pretty and can bring joy to others.

I have some gaping holes in my heart that I'm expecting others to fill. And that is so unfair to them. No one, not even my husband, can make my heart whole. It is unreasonable and unhealthy for me to try to make them make me feel better. Of course, there are some reasonable expectations I can have of John's family that have not been met. But I can't cross my arms and "make them pay" when they don't meet my expectations. In one of my earliest posts, I wrote:
Expectations + Reality = Disappointment
That continues to be true. So I must learn to handle disappointment better. This isn't a new concept for me. This is an age-old battle. Same song, second (or third or fourth or fifth) verse. You would think I would learn so I don't have to revisit this kind of pain and frustration.

The work it will take to release the anger and the demands seems daunting, but the freedom that comes from allowing God to water my heart and produce blooms is worth the work. I hope.

The Honest Truth

A couple of people have asked why I haven't been blogging. My answer: no one wants to read what I have to say right now; too depressing.

I realize that goes against my own philosophy of community.

But the truth is, I feel that my sadness is too much to give anyone else in its entirety. So I'm tentative to share it at all. I've realized that the well of my sadness is so very deep. Even if I could give some of my sadness away (or at least lessen it) by sharing it with others, I can't possibly dump it all. There's just too much. The well seems to be bottomless. Even with my dearest friends, I feel shameful that I can't just "pull it together". I also think our culture allows a certain amount of sadness and no more. I'm well beyond that threshold!

Even I am surprised at times by the depth of my sadness. Tears are always so close to the surface. And just when I think there can't possibly be any tears left in my well (mixing the metaphors a little), new ones quickly come flowing.

I'm listening to "Cry Out to Jesus" by Third Day on the internet as I type. I love how God uses music to help our hearts speak the things our minds don't always have the words for. Several songs have helped along the way: Held by Natalie Grant; Praise You In This Storm by Casting Crowns; Blessed Be Your Name by Tree63; How Great Is Our God by Chris Tomlin are a few of those.

Something I'm learning in the pain:
It is one thing to say that God is good. It is another thing to mean it.

Singing the lyrics of some of the songs I mentioned above means something different to me now. It's not that I haven't had pain before. But I've never had pain like this.

Lyrics like these...

Blessed be your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be your name

and:

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, Blessed be your name

...are harder to sing. The heart with which they are sung has come at a very great price. Saying "God is good" comes from a grateful but grieving heart. I don't know how people survive without God. It's hard enough with Him!

After rereading what I've written, the temptation to delete this entire blog is great. So I'm going to post now.

If I've exceeded your threshold, I ask for your grace.