It’s Sunday.
I go to church on Sundays.
But this Sunday, I have a beef with God.
I reached out. I went beyond my comfort zone. I asked for prayers. I begged for support.
And people all around prayed alongside me as I pleaded to be pregnant.
God did not answer my prayer. And I’m still not sure why.
Nor am I sure of when I’ll get that answer.
So today, I am struggling. Struggling not with my faith, but with this feeling that God ignored me.
Even though I know it isn’t true. Even though I know that’s not how He works.
I can’t help it. I can’t help but feel abandoned.
And so, as I wake up this Sunday morning, I know that the temptation of skipping church is palpable. I know how easy it would be to turn my back on God for a little while. How simple it would be to ignore Him as I feel He has ignored me.
The truth is, I probably would have done just that this morning. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of someone else, I probably would have set my alarm pretending to myself that I was planning on going to church. And then when it went off, I probably would have made what I tried to pass off as a last minute decision to stay home.
To avoid God.
To nurse my wounds without Him.
That won’t be happening though. Because someone reached out. A friend offered to go to church with me. To support me as I walk through those doors for the first time after this loss.
I have incredible friends. Friends who get me and are careful with their words right now. Friends who had me laughing and talking last night as though none of this had ever happened. Watching Gossip Girl and drinking wine and just being there.
Friends who go out of their way to understand, even as there are others in my life who seem to thrive off of making stupid and insensitive comments.
Because let me tell you what - if one more person tells me that giving birth is not the only way to be a mother (as if I didn't already know that) - I am going to flip out.
Especially if the people telling me this continue to be the same people who have procreated with ease all on their own. People who clearly don't even kind of get it.
But my friends? Those I hold near and dear to my heart and know I can trust with this pain of mine? They don't do that. They don't say the wrong things. They're just there. To listen to me if that's what I ask for, but to distract me otherwise.
Which really, is what I prefer most of the time anyway.
Most of my friends don't really do the church thing though. They would all be there for me in a heartbeat if I asked, but I guess I just never would have thought to ask. Never would have thought to reach out and request that hand to hold.
Like I said, I probably would have just avoided until I was ready to go alone again.
But today, I won’t be able to do that. Today, someone else has made an offer I can’t refuse, and because of that I feel strong enough to walk back through those doors.
Even today, days after finding out that my hopes for the future will not be coming true.
Even today, as I wake up to a Facebook post from someone who really should know better, telling me all about the people she knows of who adopt and go on to conceive naturally.
Even today, as I fight the urge to rage and knock the stupidity out of people who clearly understand nothing about my case and really shouldn’t be offering advice as they care for their own children who were conceived without any issues at all.
Even today, as the anger is starting to sink it, and I don’t even know who to turn it on.
Today, as my instincts are to turn away from God, I’m going to try to turn towards him.
Because someone else knew what I needed today.
Someone else understood that sometimes the best thing you can do is be there, and not say anything at all.
And so, I am going to church.
And praying that at the very least, God can take away my anger.
Because it really isn’t the best emotion on me at all.
I don't do anger well.
ADSPACE
