And He remembered

I knew I’d miss out on a lot. And I thought I was prepared for it. I knew I wouldn’t get to plan or celebrate in the same fashion or on the same timeline as other expectant mothers. I knew we wouldn’t get to prepare the flawless nursery to ease my nesting tendencies. I knew I wouldn’t get to watch my body change and feel the baby kick. We wouldn’t get to guess whether this bump sticking out was the baby’s head or hiney. And I knew I wouldn’t get to watch my husband rub my belly and talk softly to a baby that will look like him. Because all newborns look just like their fathers. I knew I’d miss out. So every time I see a perfectly staged announcement or a pregnancy photo montage of the ever growing belly or the exciting gender reveal videos I’m reminded – I’m missing out.

Now let me stop here and explain something from a paper pregnant standpoint. I’m not angry you’re pregnant. I’m not angry anyone is pregnant. I’m not angry or upset you have that super cute maternity shirt from the Target on in your happy pictures. I’m not angry at you or at your situation. I’m not angry at anyone actually. Not even God. I’m sad. And even then, as time goes on, I’m just a little sad. The pain lessens as I become more familiar and accustomed to my particular lot in life. I don’t want you to not experience those things and I certainly don’t want to take them from you and make them mine. It’s not that kind of jealousy I feel. It’s not Joseph’s brothers’ kind of jealousy. I just want to feel them too. So please don’t think because I’m sad for me, I can’t be happy for you. I can feel more than one emotion at a time. I’m a pretty advanced individual. It’s more of a sorrow I feel. A sorrow that takes anchor deep in your heart and just kinda burrows in. Some days you forget it’s even there. Then other days it sneaks up on you and all of the sudden it’s all over you full force. And you’re sad before you even realize why. So I’m not giving you a list of things I’ll miss out on because I want your pity or for you to feel guilty you get to experience them or because I want to complain. I’m sharing this because I don’t want us to feel this way. There’s no need for pity or guilt or complaining or any other negative emotion here.

I want the cute pictures, the gender reveal video with the balloons and confetti and my carefully practiced surprise face. The Pinterest ready nursery. The indecipherable ultrasounds. And I want to have every single piece of baby clothing pre-monogrammed – because I’m a true southern belle. I want it all too.

And it’s easy to get caught up in all the things I won’t get to do. That’s what satan wants me to do. Focus on how terrible my life is compared to everyone else’s. That junk has GOT to stop. We waste too much time comparing our lives to people we think have it better. I’m ashamed at how much time I spent focusing on all the things I wouldn’t get to do. (I mean you can clearly see. I’ve spent an entire page giving you a detailed list.) And let’s be honest here – I am missing out. So are you. So is everyone. We’re all missing out on something somewhere. That’s just life.

I was able to handle my missing out better than I could my parents missing out. Page and I are both the oldest of our siblings so turning our parents into grandparents was our job. A job we desperately wanted to perform. During the entire fertility process we played a lot of things close to the chest. Thinking it was our burden to bear alone. When we realized pregnancy just wasn’t in our future we felt disappointed and like disappointments. We carried that disappointment on our shoulders for months dreading letting our parents down. We knew they wanted grandchildren as badly as we wanted children. It was a dark and heavy load to carry. Especially as we watched others get pregnant so easily. As we watched our parents’ friends celebrate their grandbabies. As we went Christmas after Christmas with none of the presents under the tree being filled with toys. Adult Christmases aren’t as fun. All the magic’s replaced by stress and grown up gifts like bed sheets and washcloths. It was on our shoulders to bring that excitement and magic back. And it wasn’t happening. Still isn’t.

When we decided to adopt we tried to be as “normal” as possible. We had a church friend take amazing announcement pictures to show our family and friends that we were adopting. We wanted to give them as much of a “regular” pregnancy experience as we could. We told our parents first. And I remember how nervous I was, because of the disappointment I just knew they would feel. They were waiting – just like we were. And you never want to disappoint you parents. Especially your daddy. There’s a different kind of relationship between fathers and daughters. A different kind of special. No more or less than with mothers. But it’s just a different kind of quiet, strong, protective love. It’s a pedestal kind of love. That’s why it hurts so much more when one of them disappoints. I didn’t get in trouble a lot growing up. If I was doing something wrong all Daddy had to do was look at me, eyebrows raised, and I was broken. I never wanted to disappoint him.

Which is why the words my daddy said after reading our announcement letter will never leave me. He said “I’m proud y’all are doing it this way.” I obviously lost it right then and there in the back booth of the Longhorn in LaGrange, Georgia. Cried all over the bread and salad.

Because I hadn’t disappointed daddy.

If you spend your whole life comparing it to others who have it better you will always, always come up short. Especially if your priorities are wrong. Usually we compare our earthly lives to the earthly lives of others. They have bigger houses, more money, better jobs, go on more vacations, get pregnant, and on and on it goes. Let me drop some truth here – there will always be someone who has more than you – on this earth. Stop allowing satan to tell you your life here isn’t good enough. That’s bologna. And a lie we believe too often. We’ve got to start taking diligent notes on how good we have it. Focus on all the blessings. God doesn’t leave us in difficult times. We leave Him. Blessings don’t disappear during bad times. We stop noticing them. God remembers us.

There’s a lot I’ll miss out on because we’re adopting, but there’s a lot I won’t miss. Like this cradle. This cradle that my daddy built. That he built from a picture I sent him on Pinterest. Without a pattern or dimensions. I may not have pregnancy announcements or monogrammed diaper covers – but I’ve got this. And it’s perfect. I know he would’ve built this if I were “regular” pregnant. But even knowing that, somehow it means more this way. He built this for a baby he doesn’t know and currently has no connection to, other than me. He built this for a baby he doesn’t know when it will arrive or what it will remotely look like or even its name. It just means more to build something out of blind love.

He built this cradle for me.

We always think the grass is greener on the other side. They must’ve gotten more rain than we did. Which isn’t fair. They were born with more silver spoons than we were. Which isn’t fair. We forget that maybe they received the same amount of rain, or lack thereof, that we did – but they chose to water their grass. We think we’re a result of our circumstances. Another lie from satan. We’re not results of our circumstances but results of our attitudes about our circumstances. You think Paul let his circumstances define everything about him? No. What about Esther or Joseph? Nope again. They focused on the good. On what they could do in their circumstance. Not how good or easy someone else had it.

But what about Rachel? The life of Jacob, Rachel, and Leah is such an awkward one. I get uncomfortable for so many reasons. For one, they’re sisters sleeping with and married to the same husband. Secondly, they’re competing with each other by popping out children. Thirdly, they throw their female servants to their shared husband to sleep with too. It’s all just so much for me. Imagining family meals at this dinner table gives me the sweats. But these sisters are the perfect example of how comparisons will ruin our lives. They were too focused on what the other had, to enjoy any of the good they had in their own lives. Leah wanted Jacob to love her like he did Rachel and she forever held it against her sister. (Genesis 30:15) Rachel wanted to get pregnant as easily as Leah and was angry with Jacob is wasn’t happening for her. (Genesis 30:1) See? So much drama here. Neither appreciated the part of their life that did go right. Rachel couldn’t be happy and content in the fact that she was married to a man that loved her. Something Leah didn’t have. Leah couldn’t be happy or content that she was experiencing a part of life and a level of love, through her children, Rachel couldn’t at the time.

Please don’t misunderstand me here. I’m not judging them. I know it’s easy to cast blame when we have the whole story. They were given terrible circumstances from the beginning. And I am upset and broken for both of them. But there is so much to learn here on how we should act. Instead of focusing on the good they had, they allowed the beauty of the other’s grass to distract them from their own. Their own grass withered and died while they were too busy looking over the fence and scheming.

I could be like Rachel. I see how easy that way of life would be. To be angry at whoever was closest – even if it wasn’t their fault. To take matters into my own hands to meet my desires. Because I hate my circumstances. Some days I’m closer to Rachel than I’d like to admit.

But then I think – my daddy isn’t Laban. And that makes all the difference. Laban’s who I’m most angry with in this real life story. He’s literally the worst. A father that treated his daughters like nothing more than bartering items for extended labor. My daddy didn’t let me down when I needed him the most.

Instead he built me a cradle.

When I felt like I had ruined one of the biggest joys of life, grandparency, my daddy said he was proud of my choice. Proud enough to labor for months to make my Pinterest dream come true.

My heavenly father won’t let me down either. He’s certainly not a Laban. God didn’t let Rachel down. Genesis 30:22 says “Then God remembered Rachel, and listened to her and opened her womb.” God will listen and He will remember. It just might not be on our timetable. I don’t need to compare how good others have it. I don’t need to focus on what I’m missing out on – because I might not miss out on it forever.

Look at how good you have it. Be purposeful in this. Tend to your own grass. Rock your own cradle. Because what you have others don’t and what others have you don’t. And that’s how earthly life works. So adoption or pregnancy – either way I’m putting a baby in the cradle my daddy built me. Because I don’t have to rely solely on this earthly life. I have a Heavenly Father who’s watching out for me, my baby, and my cradle.

And He remembers.

Originally posted October 2017