Two days later, I was anxious. It was Monday morning. My quiet time routine had me reading in Nehemiah, but it didn’t feel right. I re-read Psalm 130:5-6, out loud in the morning silence. This is where I’m supposed to camp again this morning, I wrote. And then I turned to Charles Spurgeon and his timeless commentary for insight.
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I had wrestled. I had looked up half a dozen verses on waiting. I had worshipped. And then, I came to stand on my watchtower alongside a waiting prophet. I ended that April morning with Habakkuk’s words, as well as the words of my favorite, tried and true commentators.
I’m not one of those women who have the ability to breastfeed her babes on an open-ended timeline, stopping only when I decide we bother are ready. Unfortunately, my milk supply is limited. I only had about three solid months of breastfeeding Jordan before the tank started running dry and we had to start supplementing....
These words are part of a collection of writings from the final months of our ten-year-long journey of delayed fertility. In them, I’m pulling back the privacy-curtain and taking you inside the pages of my prayer journals to give insight to those who have not experienced infertility, and hope to those who are neck-deep in...
Four years ago, I sat in bed and cried on my 35th birthday. I was another year older, another year without a family. I had no idea then that I was in the home stretch of our family wait. All I knew was that my arms were still empty. Last week, on my 39th birthday,...
Two days later, I was anxious. It was Monday morning. My quiet time routine had me reading in Nehemiah, but it didn’t feel right. I re-read Psalm 130:5-6, out loud in the morning silence. This is where I’m supposed to camp again this morning, I wrote. And then I turned to Charles Spurgeon and his timeless commentary for insight.
I had wrestled. I had looked up half a dozen verses on waiting. I had worshipped. And then, I came to stand on my watchtower alongside a waiting prophet. I ended that April morning with Habakkuk’s words, as well as the words of my favorite, tried and true commentators.
I’m not one of those women who have the ability to breastfeed her babes on an open-ended timeline, stopping only when I decide we bother are ready. Unfortunately, my milk supply is limited. I only had about three solid months of breastfeeding Jordan before the tank started running dry and we had to start supplementing....
These words are part of a collection of writings from the final months of our ten-year-long journey of delayed fertility. In them, I’m pulling back the privacy-curtain and taking you inside the pages of my prayer journals to give insight to those who have not experienced infertility, and hope to those who are neck-deep in...
Four years ago, I sat in bed and cried on my 35th birthday. I was another year older, another year without a family. I had no idea then that I was in the home stretch of our family wait. All I knew was that my arms were still empty. Last week, on my 39th birthday,...
I’m very convicted on the point of..”am I waiting on You? Or waiting on a baby?”
For me, it could be stated..am I waiting on You, Lord? Or am I waiting on you to just heal my broken marriage? My waiting focus is definitely not where it should be…very convicting and powerful…thank you for sharing