Sacrifice of the Barren

I have been writing and rewriting this blog for over a month now. I question what my motives are, what point I want to get across, whether it's glorifying to God or myself?

There have been times when I have struggled with sharing too much of our struggles, and our hurts. I've wondering if sharing has been worth it? It definitely has not been easy. I always end up with the same conclusion, that with each step of vulnerability I've taken, the Lord has redeemed it...every time.

So, when He calls me to share, I share.

John and I have decided to stop actively trying to have children.

A lot of prayer and time and seeking advice from a multitude of counsellors went into this decision.

John and I took time to pray apart and when we came together we both had the same answer from God. It was time to stop, time to let go.

These past few weeks have been quite a struggle for me.

Its been, at times, unbearablely hard letting go of our dreams to have more children.

I find that I have to continually renew my mind about living in the hope of God's future for us, His plan, not my own.

I read an article last week about living a childless life, when you never wanted to. The woman said that she dealt with it by imagining taking her dreams/hurts/desires pertaining to children and wrapping them up beautifully in a box and placing that box at the feet of Jesus and telling Him "I give this to You as a sacrifice, I want only what You have for me".

I have been working on doing that constantly and it's been helping me a lot.

At times it hurts not to dream about our future with "our children" but I know sacrificing my will to God's is most important.

We are obviously not saying He could not give us more children if He wanted to, we are not saying He can't or won't do miracles in us. We are simple laying it all down at His feet and accepting where He has us now.

As for now, we are childless.

As for now, we are barren

And as for now, we are choosing to be joyful.

This, we offer as a sacrifice to our God.

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