It was a pregnancy that lasted 87 million years. It truly felt endless. False labor for weeks, measuring big the whole way through for the first time, going 12 days late, baby jammed from my hips to my ribs- I was just so uncomfortable. “This too shall pass” kept taunting, from the other side of my misery.
But it hadn’t. Each day was a brand new battle to choose to smile. “Where has my bouncy self gone?” I wondered as I lugged my tired body through yet another day of creaks and groans. Of homeschooling and meals and tears, sometimes swallowed and sometimes not.
The labor and delivery are a chapter for another day. A long epistle of dark and light, and God’s faithfulness all intertwined.
And it did pass.
Now I’m snuggling this miracle child, memorizing his delightful expressions, kissing his silky soft skin. I’m breathing fresh air, seeing the sky so blue, noticing how beautiful the falling leaves really are. I didn’t recognize how deep the depression was till suddenly I was on the other side.
Seasons. Give yourself grace to acknowledge how hard your season really is. Find friends who are safe and willing to hold your hand as you tread the dark waters of now. You won’t always fight for breath, reach for a smile. It will come.
But today, in your happy moments and in your hardest ones, know you are loved. You are accepted by the One who knows your heart, your places of deepest despair and the sounds of hope that thrill your soul.
In all seasons, He IS.
Don’t judge yourself by the depth of your despair, but by the endlessness of God’s delight in you now- raw, broken and desperate.
Is this child extra sweet because of the long desert that preceded him? Is he pure delight because of the endless night before him?
Only God knows.
But when I look into his wise little eyes, and he looks back into my soul, I know God is here.
And He was here all along.
Take heart, weary one, this season leads to one of hope.