Hope. It is a small word, but its power is amazing. After trying to conceive for six years, all that was left in me was a small ember of hope in my heart. With every negative pregnancy test, I would cry and turn to God in pain. He would comfort me with His words and promises; and like adding kindling to a fire, I was strengthened to try again.
After numerous tests, surgeries on both my husband and myself, and medications that played havoc with my body and emotions, I was exhausted. Many times I felt just like someone running an uphill marathon in a mudslide. It seemed impossible. When I had a very early miscarriage, my husband and I were devastated. I spent lonely hours crying and in mourning, but I knew I had a choice. I could become negative and bitter, or I could hold on to God’s promises and the hope that they give.
I have learned that hope was an action, and I had to choose to believe God’s promises. After taking a break from fertility treatments, we decided to try again. I can’t fully express how scared I was not only of failure, but also that my hope would die. It took us over six years to have our son, but I praise God every day for the strength He gave me. Today, as I look at my wonderful nine month old baby, I see the ember of hope realized, and it is beautiful!
“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life..”
– Proverbs 13:12 (NIV)
“Father, help me to learn to completely trust in Your word. Help me to have patience to wait for the fulfillment of Your promises. You know my heart best; help me to hope in You for these needs . . .”