If you could go back, and do life over, would you change anything? Maybe one decision, or moment that changed the whole trajectory of your life? Or maybe several things that, when looking back, you wish for a do-over? Or maybe something you didn’t have control over?
Memories of all we’ve experienced are sitting on my mind, though I’m not exactly sure why. More than sadness is the curious wondering. What would our life be like if we’d continued foster care? Would we be parents? What would our hearts be like? What about our relationships -with each other and with God?
It’s hard to believe that it’s been five years since it all began – the exciting newness of fostering, and being a momma, of following God into the unknown. It feels like a different life time. I marvel when I look back and see the deep pain, and also, the incredible healing in both our hearts.
I heard a comment of someone talking about infertility. She said she would pick to have children if they could do life over again, but she also recognized God’s sovereignty, and the blessings she has now. It made me pause a bit, since I’ve said many times that while I wouldn’t pick our experiences, neither would I change them. Am I being honest with myself?
I do long to be a mom. I’m painfully aware of my age. I genuinely don’t know that we will ever be parents. I grieve when I think of us at 60 or 70 years old with no children or grandchildren gathering in with us, or with no descendants that bear our name. I wonder how different our lives would be if we were a family that was more than two.
But then I look at the joys in my life, and the experiences that have been so, so good. Through all of it, my faith in God has deepened, and my love for Him is the most important thing to me.
And, when I cast a heaven-perspective over my life, I feel an overwhelming thankfulness and peace. THIS is where God has called me. I don’t understand it, I wouldn’t pick it, and I don’t always like it, but it is ordained by Him. And my Father is perfect. He makes no mistakes, and He cares most that I love Him with all my heart, with all my soul, with all my mind, and with all my strength. In His goodness, He’s allowed trials, loss, and no children in my life. And it’s because of these things- the pain, the tears, the longings- that I’ve searched for Him. I’ve discovered His Love and experienced it most deeply in the lack, in the dark, in the suffering.
I sit in awe of my Father. He designed me, He knew exactly what experiences would draw me closer to Him. Did He weep with me, overflowing with Love, over yet another negative pregnancy test? Did He burn with anger at the injustice we faced, heart breaking with ours over our losses? Did He long to stretch out a hand and fix it all in a moment, just to see the tears stop flowing? Did it hurt Him when I lay awake, staring into the darkness, questioning if He loved me, and if He did, why He would allow this into my life?
Did He rejoice when we communicated better with each other, and dug into His Word together? Did He reach out with loving hands when we fell face down with broken hearts, worshiping and repentant?
Does He feel my delight as I notice Him in His creation? Does He lift up the rising sun and send the colorful birds to see me thrill in His work? Does He sprinkle His beauty and goodness through my day because He just can’t help it- it’s Who He Is?
Does He wait patiently each day for me to grab His Word, and still my heart before Him? Does He fight for me, battling all day for my soul, against forces I’m not even aware of?
Does He wait patiently until I’m home, longing to hear my pure voice praising Him before His throne? Will He show me around heaven, watching me delight in perfection? Does He understand the deep ache in my soul, the overwhelming homesickness for a place I’ve never been, the place I belong?
God designed me to be Home, but for a short time, He’s asking me to love and obey Him here- in the middle of hard and painful and good. He’s asking me to remind others, to implore the ones I love, to meet me there.
It’s what we’re created for, after all.
In Christ, I am free. In Christ, I am loved. In Christ, I am home.
I love You fervently and devotedly, O Lord my Strength. The Lord is my Rock, my Fortress, my Deliverer; my God, my keen and firm Strength in Whom I will trust and take refuge, my Shield, and the Horn of my salvation, my High tower. Psalm 18:1-2