There is a sweet little jewelry shop that I was introduced to after George Mason died. A friend from college sent me a piece of jewelry with a card that had just the sweetest condolences and promises for continued prayer. The jewelry piece was lovely, but it was the Bible verse attached to the piece that just melted my heart. As I began to learn more about this little shop that so lovingly and thoughtfully made its way into my life, I fell in love. God placed the leader of that shop in my life, on purpose, with purpose, and it was such a gift. Now, 18 months later I find myself praying weekly for a group of women I have never met, through the technology of Instagram. I haven’t ever found the words - or rather the courage - to share my own vulnerabilities, but I have faithfully read the requests and included these women in my conversations with God; no matter how frivolous or distracted those conversations may be most times, I know He listens. And I know these women have felt His unconditional and ever present love and comfort in their lives. Being vulnerable on the internet like that can be both terrifying and freeing. I’m so thankful for their willingness to share the needs, both of their hearts and of their minds, in this little corner of the internet.
Tonight, I found myself offering a piece of my own story and my own desire for prayer. As I typed out the words for my request, the reality of its magnitude hit me. “I would like prayer for the size of my family” among other things... the base of the need for prayer was in the fight I’m having with myself over letting God have control of the size of our family. If you had asked me 18 months ago what our family would look like in 10 years, I would have confidently told you we’d have 4 children and be successfully out of diapers. I can’t hardly type that without a chuckle. God has other plans. If you had told me 18 months ago that I would not only have reached the 18 month mark AND gotten the ok from my doctor to try for more littles, BUT was choosing not to right in this moment, I would’ve laughed out loud. Literally. But here I am. Daily I fight a battle with myself. Daily. Do I allow myself the vulnerability of possibly losing another child? Do I wait for my anxiety to even out before I throw weird pregnancy hormones into the mix? Do I say to my Good Father that my two children, even though one is in heaven, is enough? Do I ask Him to give me peace in this place, this season of grief amongst joy? Do I settle here as mama to Audrey and George or do I open my heart to the wonders of a possible 3rd child at the same time knowing the outcome might not be life?
I finished out my request for prayer with a sentence that I almost can’t believe I typed. It was as if Jesus was typing the words I needed and not necessarily that I even knew. Proof of His continued intercession on our behalf, because we often have no idea what to pray or where to start. I said that I wanted to trust God in His timing, because it is an incredible gift. (What the?!?) That I would not just relinquish control - super hard for me - but willingly turn over the process and the outcome. Goodness, if ever there was proof that Jesus intercedes, it’s right there in that sentence. So I guess that’s my own lesson for today. That I would listen to the deep parts of my heart that are longing for Jesus and that I would faithfully follow through on my request to trust His timing. Because giving up control is not in my wheelhouse. Because I am imperfect but loved. Because at the end of this grief journey, I don’t want to have regrets. I want to simply live through this story, share it as necessary, and be shaped by what God has ordained in my life so that I may be whatever it is that He has in store for me next. Be it only Audrey Nole or an entire basketball team. Father God, let me remember this night and the words that you gave me: Your timing truly is an incredible gift. Let me live that, love that, and never deny that.