Every November for the last three years, I’ve gone white water rafting. I strap on the life jacket, straddle the side of the inflated raft, shove one foot down into that locked place between side and floor and plunge the other down into cold, swift-moving water. My body shakes—partly from shivering because I haven’t acclimated to the temperature of the water. And partly from the adrenaline pumping through it, the anticipation of what is to come. Psalm 107:9

Grief is a river. And, for me, November provides the class-four rapids. Of course, they aren’t life or death (at least not anymore). But the water is white as it rushes. It includes large waves of bittersweet memories and long, turbulent rapids marked by unexpected, stomach-lurching drops. And it requires considerably sharp maneuvers to stay ahead of the game. Psalm 107:9

I sat down last week for a quiet time, continuing along in my Search the Scriptures in the Psalms, and I was struck by five words:

You satisfy my longing soul.

Psalm 107:9

The Hebrew word for “satisfy” pointed me in the direction of Proverbs 30:16 and the picture of a well-watered land. For context, I picked up in the verse 15, and I was overwhelmed with the truth that stared back at me. It was as if I couldn’t breathe and someone came along and stabbed an epi-pen in my chest, suddenly opening the passageway for oxygen. Psalm 107:9

“There are three things that are never satisfied,” Proverbs 30:15-16 says, “four never say ‘Enough!’: the grave, the barren womb, the eather that is not satisfied with water—and the fire never says, ‘Enough!'” Psalm 107:9

It can be all-consuming sometimes, this delayed fertility, because my body physically reminds me of it every couple of weeks. But my heart reminds me of it every single day. When we gather together with friends and are nearly outnumbered by their children, my heart aches that none of them are ours. But then the list is triggered in my brain of all the things that make my heart ache, and I have to stop myself. I cannot go down that trail. I cannot sit in the sorrow. Psalm 107:9

Still, though, my heart longs for something that my body has not yet been able to produce for 117 months now, and I feel like I can finally breathe when I realize that God’s Word itself says that the barren womb is never satisfied.

It’s as if something that has gone undiagnosed finally has an answer—that I’m not crazy, or simply discontent. I don’t have my priorities wrong or unable to simply stop thinking about it. There really is a hunger deep down inside of me that is insatiable, a craving that cannot be satisfied. It’s one that I try to compensate for by living vicariously through my own life—by traveling and adventuring and checking off bucket list items as if I had a life-altering diagnosis. Psalm 107:9

I don’t, by the way. But I do have the double-whammy of still reeling from losing my best friend while continually reeling from delayed fertility. And, when the two happen to cross over? I’m suddenly staring down a class four rapid. Psalm 107:9

That happened this weekend. I had found a slow patch of the river and dressed up in white and gold to celebrate a friend and her baby-girl-on-the-way. As the celebration began, a close friend of hers read a beautiful toast she had written. And then another letter was read, that one written by her very best friend who was an ocean away. She wasn’t able to make it to the shower, but had sent something ahead, and I hit the rapids hard.

I frantically tried to celebrate with every single word (because it was so, so special), while simultaneously doing everything I could think of to make some sharp maneuvers that would swallow down the tears and prevent the ugly cry right there inside of the circle of celebration. Psalm 107:9

I had to check myself the morning after to make sure my spirit didn’t settle into the sadness. I had to recognize the motherhood craving for what it was and stop myself from trying to fill it with something else. I needed to acknowledge the fact that I am constantly trying to reward myself, to high five myself, to give myself something to look forward to, attempting to satiate the insatiable.  But all of those other things are like trying to fill my stomach by swallowing air. Psalm 107:9

“You satisfy my longing soul,” I whispered the Psalm 107:9 words to myself.

The Hebrew word for longing in Psalm 107:9 is also used to describe a charging bear in Proverbs 28:15. And, for me, when that craving for a child hits, or the longing for one more conversation with my best friend comes up, it’s not like a longing for food.

It’s the kind of longing that breaks something in me and leaves jagged edges that I sometimes want to keep sharp so that someone will brush up against them and feel pricked and somehow know a small amount of the pain that I feel. But that never happens. My jagged edges cut with sharp words and the only pain the person on the receiving end is aware of is the one from their own wound that resulted from it. Psalm 107:9

So, I need God to soften the jagged edges.  God, please… soften my jagged edges.

The other time that Hebrew word for longing is used? It’s in Isaiah 29:8, in reference to a man who was so hungry and so thirsty that he dreams at night about eating, and drinking, and satiating the insatiable. But when he wakes up, his soul is still craving. Psalm 107:9

I dream about my babies.

Regularly. I dream about finding out that I’m pregnant. I dream about a giant belly above the water line of a bath tub, waiting to go into labor. I dream about setting them up in a chair by the window for their first newborn photographs. I dream about them. All the time, I dream about them. And when I wake up… they aren’t there. And my soul still craves. Psalm 107:9

I’ve dreamed of Shawna, too. At the end of each dream, I have to leave and I beg her to come with me. Every time, she says she can’t, and I wake up. And she’s not there. And my soul still craves.

But God. Oh, but God. Psalm 107:9

He satisfies my longing soul, and fills my hungry soul with goodness—just like He did with David, who also had a dream. And God said no. But He also filled his hands with gold and silver and bronze and iron and cedar wood and onyx stones and glistening stones of all different colors and with all kinds of precious stones and with marble slabs. Psalm 107:9

David craved a building project for God, and He said no to David’s version of that dream. But He filled David’s hands with abundant gifts that would fulfill the dream in a different way. Gifts like 100,000 talents of gold, a million talents of silver, and bronze and iron beyond measure—all to build God’s house, for His glory. Psalm 107:9

So, I pray: if my precious stones are words in abundance, God … let them be so. Satisfy my longing soul by filling my soul with goodness—good words of truth that soften these jagged edges and bring You glory as they describe the light that You shine brightly into my darkness. Fill my hungry soul with goodness, for Your glory. Amen. Psalm 107:9