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On That Side of Our Jordan

Remember. It was the first word that came to me during a recent quiet time. And when it did, my mind flashed to this one particular journal from back in 2009 and those raw written words just four pages in and only two weeks into the brand new year. It ended with a verse in Deuteronomy:

“The land which you cross over to possess is a land of hills and valleys, which drinks water from the rain of heaven, a land for which the LORD your God cares; the eys of the LORD your God are always on it, from the beginning of the year to the very end of the year.”
(Deuteronomy 11:11-12)

I went back to the beginning of the book to get my context-footing and didn’t get more than one verse in before I heart-smiled at a personal play on Moses’ words: “These are the words which Moses spoke to all Israel on this side of the Jordan in the wilderness,” Deuteronomy 1:1 read. I had been feeling a tug to go back and pick through my old journals – to transcribe them and dig out the treasures still hiding there. Back when I was in the wilderness. Back when we were on that side of our Jordan.

Next month will be three years of trying to get pregnant. I reread the words this afternoon while flipping back through that ten-year-old prayer journal. Every single month, I’m hopeful. As if the last 35 months in a row haven’t happened. And every single month … disappointment.

You know the ache deep within me, I wrote. You created it within me – this physical need to have a child. And I give it to you anew this morning as Beth Moore’s words ring in my ears:

That which comes naturally to everyone else, God has chosen to come supernaturally to you.

If I’m not pregnant, I prayed, would You protect my heart from disappointment?

I had no idea that I still had seven waiting-years ahead of me.

I used to hide in our closet. In the moments when the waiting-weight was crushing, I’d hide in the dark, tucked up into the back corner of our walk-in closet with the lights off and ugly cry. You are so good, I would choke out in a weeping-whisper, begging Him for a baby. Please, God, let this month be the month. And when it wasn’t, I forced myself back into that same closet-space, that same prayer-posture, staring down another no, and tell Him again that even despite the no, He is still good.

The other day, we moved our tiny, second babe’s basinette into the closet for some napping daytime darkness. I stood there sway-snuggling him in the dark, flashing back to those darker, waiting moments. The ones where I didn’t think my heart could take much more, and the full-circle tears sprang to my eyes.

And that Deuteronomy verse? It was my verse for 2009, when I was on that side of our Jordan. And it will be my verse again for 2019, now on this side of the miracle. As I lay these on-the-other-side eyes on old waiting-words, I will remember that His eyes are ever on me. From the beginning of the year, all the way through to the very end of it. Happy New Year, friends.

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