One of the songs I have been clinging to throughout this adoption process is "How He Loves Us." A lot of artists sing it, and I am not really sure who actually wrote it. Oh well. It is one of my favorites. Mostly because when I listen to it, I think about the day I will see our sweet babies for the first time. So it is a song that almost always fills me with awe-inspiring and humbling joy. So it came up on the CD, and I was singing along, and it did not take too long for me to stop short. One of the opening lines of the song is...
He is jealous for me
Love's like a hurricane
I am a tree
The weight of His wind and mercy.
I had to halt in my tracks right there. You see, I have not been believing that for the last several months. I have not been believing that God was being merciful in my life. Instead I have been feeling like God had abandoned me, left me, forgot about me. I have felt alone and scared and angry and exhausted. I have not felt the weight of His mercy. No. I have been feeling the weight of my hurt and my pain, focusing on how terribly unfair our current situation is. I have pushed the truth of God's mercy in my life aside in favor of self-pity and indignation. And I have suffered all the more for it.
Instead of focusing on God and His righteousness and sovereignty I have focused on how unfair life is. How unfair it is that we do not have children when we want them so badly we could scream, how unfair it is to see people who do not want children have them and cast them aside, how unfair it is that we have to continue to wait for what I had always assumed was a basic human right and something God gladly gave to those He loved.
I have struggled with this more than I can say.
Asking God, "If you love me, why can I not be a mother? Throughout your Word you bless women by allowing them to be mothers, but that has not happened for me. What have I done? Why have you left me? Tell me what to change, and I will fix it. Please."
And through all of this, in the back of my mind somewhere, I started to believe the lie that God had left me. That He has withdrawn His mercy from me.
But, friends, nothing could be further from the truth. He used the solitude in my car on I-20 on Sunday to gently remind me of this. He is still here. His mercy is still upholding me. Sustaining me, even though it does not always feel that way. Adam always uses that word. Sustain. He tells me that God is sustaining us, that God will sustain us. I remember one time when he said that I asked him, "What does that mean? Does it just mean that we won't die?" You see what a joy I am from time to time. And as I think about it now, I think it is more than just not dying; it is trusting in God to get you through something you never thought you would have to endure.
And that is what He is doing in my life. He is getting me through something I never imagined facing, something I know would have killed me but for His grace. There are so many hardships on this path, and I hesitate to name them all for fear of sounding dramatic or inciting a pity party, but I do want to be clear. I am here by the grace of our Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. I am not strong enough to survive this on my own, and He knows that. And that is why He has not left me.
It is right there that I feel the weight of His mercy.
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."