Faith is a funny thing. It's easy to be 100% faithful when things are going well. Things, as you may have noticed, have not been going well. My last post was not cheerful in any way. And I may have even questioned my "amount" (used only because at this moment I cannot think of a better term) of faith. I firmly believe that I cannot lose my salvation (acceptance of Christ as my savior), that no matter what happens I will always be considered His child and be welcomed into heaven when I die (or He comes back, which ever happens first). I do however believe that one's faith can waiver, even become stagnant.
Things have been bleak lately, on all fronts. The wave of emotions on the fertility front have become crippling, exhausting, draining. I don't believe there are enough adjectives to describe the immense feelings that have been ravaging me lately. There have been days where I am a lump, I wish I could say an emotionless lump, but it seems that is not the case. I have always been an emotional woman, more so than the majority of people I know. I tend to cry very easily, even at stupid commercials(while all hormones are at an even keel as well). Everything in my life has been suffering the past few weeks. To be honest it's been months. I could justifiably be fired from my job, which at the moment would not be the worst thing to happen. I love my job, I'm just not in a good frame of mind to be able to cope with it. However, the financial would more than likely be devastating if that were to happen.
Things at home have not been the most harmonious either. We are very blessed in the fact that we do not fight like a lot of couples I know. In fact, if we do have words, voices are very rarely raised and we make sure to not go to bed angry (Ephesians 4:26-27 - In your anger do not sin: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold). For this I am grateful. I hear so many stories, even from our small group, about some of the fights, and thank God everyday that we handle our differences in a manor that is pleasing to God and healthy for us. With that said, there are other issues we are struggling with. We are not on the same page on so many issues, in fact I think that sometimes we are in completely different books. And these are things we need to work on before God can do any more work on our family. I truly believe that the reason we have not been blessed with a child yet is because we have some serious lessons to learn before we are given the greatest responsibility of raising a child. (I know many will disagree with this point of view, and that is fine. Let's just agree to disagree on this and remain kind).
Mr. Sparky left for Phx yesterday morning before the sun came up. I had no intentions of going to church and I had only gotten about three hours of sleep the night before. When I got home from dropping him off, I took a short nap with the pooches and decided I should go to church. Maybe it would be good for me. So I went, and I sang (admittedly without much passion) and I tried to listen. I even took communion, hoping that the remembrance of what Christ did for me personally would be the nudge I needed to feel anything again. That didn't work. I listened for most of the service, trying to understand how the pastor's words made any correlation to the mess that lives inside of me right now. It's hard, this monster of infertility. It makes even the joyous things, like hearing God's truth spoken to hundreds of people seem like torture. I cannot tell you what the sermon was about, or how it may have affected me. It didn't sink in at all.
And once again I felt so alone. My husband gone, no friends to talk to(by choice) and a feeling of no faith. How could I trust in a God who could make things so hard? How could I want to love someone who made me hurt and cry and be disparaged of ever having the life I want so badly? I went home and laid on the couch all afternoon. I had called the couple who lead our small group and told her I was coming. Knowing that I had made the commitment and would more than likely not back out. And I went. And it was hard. And it was the best thing I could have done.