No
one ever wakes up and decides that today is going to be the day they become
filled with despair and bitterness, and I was no different. Actually, in the
beginning all I wanted and hoped for was something wonderful and beautiful, in
and of itself. I simply desired to become a mother, but as birthday after
birthday continued to pass, I was reminded that my biological clock was
ticking. I prayed, but it seemed as if God was silent. I frantically went from one doctor to the next, seeking answers—some
form of hope—yet what I sought eluded me. Even when every alternative solution was
explored, it seemed as if they were each blocked by insurmountable obstacles.
I unknowingly
allowed myself to slowly sink into the depths of despair as I succumbed to the
reality of utter defeat, readily embracing the anger that filled my soul,
justifying my actions, reasoning within myself that none of this was fair—that
God was mean and unloving toward me. I convinced myself that I was good and
deserved something for all my past efforts. I became angry with God because I
believed He was powerful, all-knowing, and in complete control yet He
purposefully chose to withhold from me the desire of my heart. I willingly dove
into a sea of bitterness clothed in self-pity, finding no comfort in the
stories of HOPE within the pages of Scripture—Sarah, Rachel, Hannah,
Elisabeth—because all those stories seemed to only mock me with their happy
endings.
Like
Peter, in the midst of the storm—in the worst possible moment—I decided to take
my eyes off my Savior and began focusing on the tumultuous, dark waters that
surrounded me. I focused my attention on others, wondering how so many women
who were abusers and unloving could be granted what was withheld from me and
how God would chose to open the wombs of so many who in turn sought abortions.
I
allowed all the despair and bitterness to fester as the pain of infertility
continued to linger stretching on for what seemed like an eternity, plummeting
me further into the darkness I had so readily embraced. It affected every part
of my life, draining my joy and stifling my spiritual growth. Outwardly, I kept
up pretenses, but inwardly, I was ensnared and consumed by the very emotions I
had so readily justified. My deepening depression, encased in hopelessness,
grew to the point I wished for death, reasoning I had nothing left. I became
despondent, sinking so low I tried convincing my husband to leave so he could
have a life and children with someone else.
With
no options left, I finally opted to pull myself up by my own bootstraps, making
one last-ditch effort, trying to take control once again, bargaining with God,
seeking to mend my relationship in hopes that He’d give me a child. Of course, He,
unlike all those around me, knew my heart and wisely chose not to grant my
desire; and it wasn’t long after that I reached my darkest hour when I realized
I had no hope left—that my dream had been completely shattered—that I was
absolutely powerless to change the realities of my infertility. So I, in my
bitter state, summoned the courage necessary to verbalize the true blackened-state
of my heart. I blatantly confessed, to my husband, that I was angry with God—that
I was finished living a lie, pretending to be a devout Christian—that I was,
once and for all, finished. It was within the midst of my denial that God, in
all His mercy, saw fit to open my womb. Like Peter, in the midst of the hardest
test of his life, I denied my Lord and Savior; and yet, He lovingly showed me
there was still HOPE because when it feels as if all HOPE has been lost He alone
is the source of perfect HOPE.
My
journey back to Him has been long, painful, and heart-wrenching. Over time, He
has used my circumstances, relationships, location, and even my two beautiful
children to show me how truly wretched I am. It took God opening the eyes of my
heart for me to become repentant enough to humble myself before Him. He took me
back to the foot of the cross and reminded me of what I actually deserve—reminded
me that I deserve nothing because I am nothing but a saved sinner who still
needs a Savior. He reminded me of my purpose which has nothing to do with me
attaining my dreams or seeking some form of happiness but has everything to do
with me serving and glorifying Him. He reminded me of who He is and why I need to
truly seek Him first and foremost—because I love Him and want a relationship
with Him, not because I want something from Him. Because of Him and His love,
grace, and mercy, I’m learning to willingly surrender my all to Him, not only
my heart, soul, and desires but everything, even the things I find myself wanting
most in this life. In letting go, I’ve learned that the indwelling light of His
HOPE has filled me with a sense of love, joy, and peace that passes all
understanding.
So
. . . yes, I really do have HOPE; but I couldn’t just start out by stating this
reality in the very beginning because I didn’t always understand that I’d
always had perfect HOPE my entire Christian life—that hopelessness is nothing
more than the manifestation of an emotional tool used by the father of lies. I
wanted you to see this really wasn’t my story of HOPE at all but, instead, is
God’s story of HOPE through me. I wanted you to understand that anything that
appears to be good in my life is not present because of me but because of Him.
I needed to let you see all that darkness so you could understand the essence
and beauty of HOPE.
Because
we’re continually being molded into the image of Christ and living in a world
marred by sin, I can’t promise you that surrender is easy and that everything
is going to work out the way you want because it’s not and it more than likely won’t.
I can’t promise you that your life will be trouble and pain free if you seek
God first because it won’t. I can’t tell you that whatever you desire the most
will eventually be fulfilled because it may never be; but on the flip side, I can promise you that the victory has
already been won—that you are not alone—that you are far from insignificant
because you were loved just as you are before the foundation of the world was
ever laid. I can tell you with complete
assurance that there is HOPE, and in order to combat the feeling of
hopelessness, you must let go of yourself and let God be your only HOPE. No matter your struggle, learn
to ask Him to open the eyes of your heart and strive to have a personal relationship
with Him—to delve into His Word, pray, and seek Him on a daily basis—so that you too can experience the perfection of the
HOPE that already dwells within.
To
those of you who may not be fellow believers, I know you long to be free from
the clutches of hopelessness—but I want you to understand that, on your own, you
will never be able to experience the kind of HOPE I described. The only way you
can ever experience this kind of HOPE is by acknowledging that you too are a
sinner in need of a Savior. Know that Christ loves you just as you are, gave
Himself for you, and longs for you to accept His free gift of salvation.
The
story of HOPE I shared has been my inspiration for writing. This is why I
became an author—because of where I’ve been and what God has taught me through
the darkness. He has graciously bestowed a passion within me to not only weave
together stories that are entertaining, inspiring, and intriguing but that also
resonate within the very souls of readers, mirroring real-life struggles and
triumphs, reminding each of us who we can become when we surrender all and
allow God to be our only HOPE.
If
you’re in need of encouragement—of a glimpse of HOPE—please read the passage
from Romans 8:12-39. A passage which I hold dear because it explains suffering and displays the manifestation of perfect HOPE.
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