In the fall of 2010, I read a book on Insecurity. Admittedly, I went into it somewhat cocky. Reading it to support, encourage, and minister to the other girls in our group. But about halfway through, something funny happened. The false confidence of my own measure of security began to crumble. I was blindsided by insecurity. The insecurity of being thirty. Of missing the window. Of waiting too long.
Of being an older parent.
The insecurity of meeting new women and having nothing to contribute to a mutual conversation about their children.
The insecurity of dodging the question: how long have you been married? Wow. Any kids? What are you waiting for?
One September morning, I was thinking through all this. I know someday I’ll probably look back and laugh because 30 is so young. But, nonetheless, the fears are there, I wrote in my journal.
I opened my Bible, on the hunt for a verse referenced in the particular chapter I was reading in the book, when God decided to hijack my quiet time. I love it when He does that.
I found myself reading Psalm 113 (when I was supposed to be in Psalm 112). And my eyes rested on the verse He wanted me to read… a promise from His loving heart to my fearful, insecure, doubting one:
He makes the barren woman to be a homemaker and a joyful mother of spiritual children. Praise the LORD (Hallelujah!).
– Psalm 113:9, amplified version
Thank You LORD for giving me the words and promises I need right when I need them.
He continued: Sing, o barren one, you who did not bear; break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who did not travail with child! For the spiritual children of the desolate one will be more than the children of the married wife, says the LORD. … Do not fear for you will not be ashamed. Neither be confounded or depressed, for you shall not be put to shame. For you shall forget the shame of your youth, and you shall not seriously remember the reproach of your widowhood anymore. (Isaiah 54:1, 4, amplified version)
Words so specific I had to laugh out loud. Sometimes He interrupts me with words I can’t argue back against. So I began to pray. And as I prayed, I tried my hardest to turn the fears and insecurities on their ugly little heads. God, help me to rejoice in this season. Help me to see the spiritual children You’ve given me. And I pray fervently, LORD, that You make me effective. Glorify Yourself through me, LORD. As the grief and the tears well up, LORD, remind me of Psalm 113:9.
As the chapter on fear came to a close, I followed the author’s words back to Proverbs 31:25 and found the pretty bow God had waiting to tie up that particular morning: …she can laugh at the days to come. Words I literally wrote on the page before I even started reading… He reinforced so specifically with His amazingly perfect timing.
God, turn my fear into faith.
Turn my sorrow into laughter.
I don’t want to miss out on the glorious riches You do have for me in this season because I’m too busy grieving over what You don’t.