Later this year, I turn another year older. I'm not all concerned about turning another year older, even if it is a big number this year. But getting older does make me think a little and take stock in what I have around me. And I'm not talking houses, cars and things but the people in my life; Matt and Gabriel, my family, my lovelies, my friends. I am blessed. Incredibly blessed.
But sometimes late at night, when I'm laying in bed wishing our next little loves were already home, I think back on how I expected life to go. When infertility and loss weren't even a thought in the back of my head, let alone an actual part of life. After Matt and I were married, I figured we'd have 4 or 5 children the 'natural' way and then adopt a couple more. By 30, we'd have at least a car full.
I was wrong. I hate being wrong. But I am so grateful that I was wrong. It will be a miracle... like the kind the Pope authenticates if are next baby is home by the time I turn 30. And I'm okay with turning 30, I really am okay with growing older (of course, I will be buying wrinkle cream soon) but as much as
I try to convince myself that I'm okay, I'm not always okay with how long it is taking to grow our family. I know it's part of God's plan and that his timing is perfect.
But sometimes it's hard and I have to stand firm in the truth of the word; that God does know the desires of my heart. Psalms 37:4 tells me to "Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart," and I do. In Psalms 113:9, the psalmist (most likely David or Moses) writes "He settles the barren woman in her home - the joyful mother of children."
And that I cling too.