When Faith Gives You No Easy Answers

I’ve tried several times to write about the last four months of our life. It’s been difficult to find the right words—maybe because there aren’t any. There’s no right (or wrong) way to talk publicly about finding out that you can’t have children. There’s no neat and tidy way to share how one sentence was the death of dreams and wrecked your heart in unimaginable ways. 

Just miles of grief and rivers of tears. Days cloaked in darkness and brave faces. Ignoring it and at the same time being unable to escape it. Actually forgetting that it’s happening and falling to pieces all over again. Watching comedies desperately trying to come up for air as you drown in an ocean of devastation. 

It's eye-opening how many verses the New Testament devotes to encouraging the saints to persevere and reminding them of God's fidelity. Yes, there is victory in the Christian life. But much of that victory just looks like showing up, or holding on for dear life when all hell breaks loose. -Derek Rishmawy (via Twitter)

The last few months have been just that: “holding on for dear life as all hell has broken loose.” But also seeing that God’s fidelity means that he’s even more resolved to hold onto me. It can be tempting to try to find spiritual lessons that fit in easy-to-hold boxes when things like this happen. But there aren’t many. 

To follow Jesus means to live in tension. Easy answers in faith are hard to come by, and the ones you do find are often the result of wrestling through the night like Jacob. As a former pastor of mine once said, “Faith is a few answers and lived in questions.” She wasn’t wrong: I know that more and more each day. 

It would’ve been easier to not have a year and a half of prayers to get pregnant go unanswered. Or worse answered with a “no.” But here we are. Me and Seth and Jesus in this heartbreaking unknown of grief that will never get the dignity of a funeral—trying to figure out the way forward.

To friends and family who are finding out about all of this through this blog, I’m sorry. I would’ve preferred to tell you in some more personal or direct form of communication but it was unbelievably difficult to try to bring myself to have the conversation over and over again. And many times I just couldn’t.

That said, now that you know, we’re grateful for your love, prayers, and possibly longer hugs the next time we see you.