Hope for the Holidays

This month I have been reflecting on how mighty our Lord is, and how I let life get me down. When feeling down the darkness invades and I cannot help but remember all of the heartbreak that holidays bring to so many. Us included. The ache from wanting a baby before we had Matthew, to the complicated ache that we now experience of wanting another child but not wanting to admit we want to try for another because of the multiple losses and heartbreak we experienced on that journey of actively trying to conceive. The ache of dreams not coming true, of babies that never got to know our faces. And then I see him. His name is Matthew. Our precious little miracle that You protected and brought into our lives.

Then I think of You God. All of the pain and joy you must have felt on the day of Christ's birth. The pain of knowing all that the future held for Jesus. The joy of seeing your son in the flesh, the joy of knowing all that would come to know you and be called children of God because of the sacrifices your son Jesus made for us. The sorrow of seeing your son treated as harshly as he was, the pain you had to feel for him as he was on the cross. 

You knew all of this at His birth. And yet you let Him live it, so he could be the sacrificial lamb that shows us the way to You Lord. My heart cannot even comprehend...

It brings me back to the moment where Jesus in Luke 22:42 says,
"Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine."

It makes me think of the cup that you gave us. This bitter inducing cup of infertility and loss. And I think of all of the times I have asked you to take this cup from us. To heal me from infertility and bless us with healthy pregnancies. Yet, I desperately want your will to be done, not mine. So the cup stays in my hand, like that thorn in Paul's side.

You have given me so much strength in my weakness, strength that I would rather have never known. In circumstances that I wish would never have happened. Yet, especially during the holidays I find myself identifying with what the world would label me instead of who You call me. I struggle through feelings of inadequacy due to not being able to have babies without struggle, of not being able to purchase the presents that I wish we could give, of not having Christmas decorations up in a put together home. It emphasizes how much of a misfit I often feel in this world. It leads to more struggles with what the world may call me due to where we are in life. The more I hear the false identities of the world, the more I forget my identity in Christ. The less time I spend reading Your promises.

Lord even in the hardness of this Holiday season, my heart still wants more of you and less busy chaos. I pray that is the echo of my sisters in Christ as well. 

There are glimmers of hope and the cheerfulness of giving in this season that peak through the moments of sorrow and darkness. Spreading the light of Jesus, just when I needed it. When I get the text from a friend saying she wants to help me out around the house, something I had been praying for...real authentic friendship that sees a need and answers it. Someone that isn't afraid to step into this messy life I have and parent their children right beside us. To someone literally giving us a vehicle when James' truck broke down. Like literally GIVING us a car. This is the second time this has happened to us. I'm not kidding, why do I even question the goodness of you God? To the friend that in the midst of me feeling alone in my brokenness and hurting this holiday season says, "Jess, I had to step away from Facebook. The pregnancy announcements and babies were getting to me." She gets my heart and I get hers. We are excited for the women and their families, yet too often it feels like salt in our wounds and dashed dreams.

People ask what we are getting Matthew for Christmas. I answer a few small things. But what I really want Matthew to have for Christmas more than any play thing or gift under the Christmas tree is an authentic, real, giving heart that beats to the beat of Jesus and hands and feet that go where the Holy Spirit tells him to go. 

I started out this week feeling rather hopeless and disappointed by life. But it is the authentic, real people that pointed my focus back to Christ and showed me that there is hope to still have a Merry Christmas. There is still some happiness in the holidays. 

That my friends is what I want to give Matthew more than gifts under a tree. In the midst of hard times, I want him to know there is always hope in Christ.