It never leaves, this ache.
I can press it down, punch at it like bread dough, pat it into a nice ball, and cover it up.
But still, sometimes it spills.
I think of Elizabeth, barren in her old age. Heart and arms heavy with the ache of it. As time passed, maybe she stopped praying. Accepted the thought that, though she was known righteous, some silent sin sealed her womb. Accepted that childless was her lot.
I remember that pain. The wondering at what choices I had made that kept my arms empty.
Yet God had heard Elizabeth’s prayer. And He answered it in His time. She would give birth to a boy who would bring her joy.
And loss.
Would she have asked God to change His mind if she could see into the future? That her only child would be imprisoned and beheaded? Or did she find much delight in knowing that he was part of a larger plan? In somehow knowing that true joy is not temporal.
God didn’t answer my prayer in my way or in my time either. And once I accepted that childless was my lot, He filled my arms–though not my womb.
Never my womb.
But my heart ached with the love of it. With the love of them.
I wonder if I would have asked Him to change His mind if I could see into the future? If I could see the damaged dreams, the anxiety, the fear, and the tears–mingled with the joy. If I could see how my heart would ache with the pain of it.
Or is there still some hidden delight? A larger plan that’s not yet come together?
Because true joy is not temporal.
And my heart aches with love for the truth of that.
In the stillness,
Sandy
Originally penned in response to the word prompt “ache.” Retrieved from the archives today to let you know I’m still here as I continue to rest from many words and consider future words.
Sandra,
Thank you for sharing your tender and beautiful heart…pray you’re well.
Hi Dolly… yes, we are going through some changes here, but I’m doing well. 🙂
Excellent question to consider. Excellent thoughts. Thank you for all of this. If you hadn’t brought it out of the archives, I would have missed it. Happy resting, friend.
Well, then, I’m glad I dusted it off. 😀
Touched my heart and soul deeply with this, Sandra . . .
Hope you will find the rest and peace you seek at this time.
Blessings!
Hugs to you, Martha. And happy belated birthday. 🙂
Dear Sandra, in some ways we are much alike. A womb wanting to be filled. Only occupied briefly. Never to be occupied again. Then our arms were filled with the love of precious life entrusted to us to love and hopefully fill our hearts with joy. But would we have been so quick to fill the void if we knew the anxieties that lay ahead? I’ve wondered that, too, many times. And the answer is always, yes, no matter the pain even if unbearable at the moment.
We were hand-picked by God to love and raise these children for Him but the completion of the work is His.
Let’s flip through those photo albums (or fill them as in my case) and remember the joys that never would have been ours.
Remind me I said this, ok?
Blessings, Janis
And sometimes I wonder if it would have happened even without prayer… if it was already in His plan. So I lean into His sovereignty knowing that His plan is always better. And remembering the joys overpowers any pain. Thanks for the reminder, Janis. I treasure those albums. 😀
“It never leaves…” I know this ache too well, too deeply. At times the edges seem less jagged and the empty seems less hollow but it is always there. An unwelcomed friend of sorts, I guess. Thank you for dusting this off. It is strangely comforting to know feelings like this are not only mine to bear.
And I’m glad to know I’m not the only one. xo