the pain while waiting

It's been a little over a year since we found out that we were pregnant for the first time. We lost that baby in the end of December and since then have been pregnant and miscarried two additional times. So in under a year that's been three pregnancies and three miscarriages. It's been a lot. 

During that year, there has been this pattern that I've watched emerge. The first week in a month usually involves being a little bitter. This week I'm most likely having a period which is a sure fire sign that I'm not pregnant. It also involves me drinking a good craft beer now and then because *I can.* The second/third weeks are full of fun and carefree mentalities followed by the fourth week. This fourth week is the week I dread most. 

During the fourth week of any given month, I am constantly fighting feeling tormented. On one hand I want to hope but on the other hand I don't want to get my hopes up too high. I want to be realistic but I don't want to feel crushed. 

Two months ago on a Thursday during this forth week I remember wanting to take a pregnancy test. I felt like the Lord told me to wait until Monday. MONDAY?! Monday was an eternity away and I wanted to know now...on Thursday. It took a lot in me to be obedient and not just to go against my better judgement and do what I wanted to do - take a pregnancy test on Thursday. 

I was what you'd call a heated mess so what once was a little messy is now ever messier (Pitch Perfect 2 anyone?). Wrecked. I didn't know what to do with myself or how to think or how to even begin to make sense of my thoughts and emotions. So I did the only thing I knew how to do, bring it all to the Lord - all of my hot mess. Because if anyone could make sense of it, it was going to be Him. 

I remember fighting, like knock-down, drag-out spiritual warfare for my spirit. I was in such an attitude of battle those four days. I felt like I was fighting for my life in the heavenly realm. This was no joke. There was a war being waged and it was for my heart. Who would I let win? Would I stand with those fighting for me? Or just let the enemy press on? I had to do something. There were many tears shed and many shouts yelled. I paced through rooms and sang my heart out. I poured everything I had in me out to the Lord and left it there on the floor. In those moments, He met me. He showed up in such beautiful ways. He scooped up all my tears, all my hopes, and all my fears and loved me. 

Needless to say, it was there when I realized how often we just go on carelessly with our Christian walks. We don't see our spiritual commitment as something to be guarded and fought for endlessly until we have nothing left and even then still fight for. I'm guilty of it and I'm sure I'm not alone in this.

Imagine the things that could come from this state of watchfulness. How many times do we know we should go to the Lord first but call our significant others, or our moms, or our best friends, or whoever will pick up the phone first? What if we called God first? Is there something in your life that you know you haven't been vigilant about bringing it to the Lord? Friends, I'm not here to shame you or make you feel bad, but rather encourage you that it's never too late. Our Father sits longingly waiting for us to call him first. To not choose social media, but to choose Him first. 

Even knowing this now, I still have a hard time fighting daily. It's a process and a journey and you have to be ok with falling and scraping your knees every now and then. Will you walk with me?