I am NOT in love with storms. I am not enjoying tonight’s weather and I’m dreading trying to sleep with the sound of the wind outside. Yuck. I’m not technically afraid, but I am definitely uncomfortable.
For some reason, the weather is reminding me of a different storm I was in about 2 1/2+ years ago.
We had been trying to get pregnant for a long while and with each month I was getting more sorrowful. There were only 1 or 2 people who knew the depth of the emotions I was trying to handle, and I didn’t even tell Shane much because he had his own burdens to bear without trying to carry mine too.
One month it was almost too much for me to bear. I told Shane and Chase (who lived with us at the time) that I needed to go for a drive. I didn’t say why. It was pouring rain and windy, but I drove to the waterfront where Shane first told me he loved me (after only knowing me 6 weeks the rascal). I sat there and cried and cried. I didn’t pray, I didn’t speak. I just wept. And it was bitter. Anyone who wants children yet has had to face the prospect of barrenness knows what those tears are. Each tear is absolutely loaded with emotions, fears, doubts, anger, helplessness etc.
After sitting there for quite some time I drove to Pt. Defiance and meandered through the 5 mile drive. Whenever my tears got to be too much I would stop at a viewpoint and cry some more. But by this time I was talking. And praying. And yelling. And letting God know that I had reached the end. I told Him I absolutely couldn’t take another month of an empty womb. I reminded Him of how incredibly healing it would be for Shane. I screamed at Him that I wanted to hand a baby to my parents and see their joy. I listed the people praying for us. On and on I ranted and raved. When I had nothing else to say, I drove to Owen Beach and got out. I silently walked down the beach in the rain and wind.
And then the storm started to lift. Believe me, it wasn’t like some movie where the clouds part and rays of sunshine suddenly burst out and all my cares were gone. But the storm shifted enough that I lifted my eyes up from the sand, and looked to the horizon and the islands up and down the Puget Sound.
That’s when down deep in my knower (in my heart of hearts) I heard a little whisper. It said, “There is still the scent of water. There is still hope.” I knew what that meant (see Scripture at the bottom of this blog). I remember standing there gazing out over the water for a very long time. And I made a choice. I chose hope. I chose to run to the Prince of Peace and let Him carry my burden…He is the only one Who could.
I walked back to my car and came across a funny looking stick. Chase was really into guns at this time, and the stick was shaped just like a rifle. As I picked it up its like a fog lifted and I realized…I already had a son. In fact I had 3 sons. (At that time only Caleb wasn’t in contact with us) And God picked me for them.
I took that stick home to Chase and hugged him and thanked him for letting me be part of his life. And I decided then and there, whether or not I ever had a child from my womb, I would still be a mother. I would mother any child/youth that came across my path and needed one. Because I had smelled the scent of water and my storm was now quite different.
“There is hope for a tree, when it is cut down, that it will sprout again. Its shoots will not fail. Though its roots grow old in the ground and its stump dies in the dry soil, at the scent of water it will flourish and put forth sprigs like a plant.” Job 14:7-9