It’s been over two years since I have written within the borders of this domain. I’ve missed it here. My blog was a home that I took shelter in and built up as I tore down the lies of the enemy and false identity that infertility tried to found. It’s been a refuge for my mind to escape to and express with no bound. You, too, may have visited a time or so and felt the same.

Two years.

I’ve grown in many ways. I’ve decreased in others. All together, so much to testify.

​Reading through some of my previous pieces, I reflect on where I was then. Abandoned but faithful. Exhausted yet keeping up the good fight. Healing but not yet healed.

Awaiting healing and deliverance I didn’t know that I needed. A heart after God’s own heart will find what it’s longing for, and the Father will deposit into it inheritance.

Two years ago, the Holy Spirit spoke “decrease.” Desperate, I relinquished all dreams to Jesus in faith recognizing that surrender was all I had left.

We had pursued Domestic Infant Adoption months before. Instead of walking away with a child, we walked away with more. A truer understanding of love and what being a “brother’s keeper” meant within the triad.

The decision to step away from adoption cascaded a domino of significant events that took place over the course of the next two years.

We had sold our land where we planned to build our “forever” home.

Decrease.

Terry quit his job in the oilfield where he had made a name for himself and climbed the ladder quickly. He thoroughly enjoyed the challenge and the lifestyle that his career in the oilfield brought. However, I was empty in our nest where I dreamed of children and a husband that would rise and fall with me every morning and night. A testimony of what a patient and praying wife can achieve in hope and faith. For five years, I waited for him to hang his hat on the rig and drive his six hours back home to me for the final time. Two years ago, he walked away from production and has never looked back. He is home to stay for good.

Decrease.

We sold our house. The one where we set up our nursery and prepared our hearts for God’s promises. Decrease. In exchange for those dreams, we bought a 100+ year old Acadian cottage at the end of a lane in the middle of a sugarcane farm. A better dream. It was a lot smaller. However, we fit better, and it offered us more. Only two bedrooms and one bath. Plenty enough room for God to move. We renovated it. Painted every wall. Gutted the old to install the new. Terry and I began to relearn each other. We’ve always been opposites that somehow clicked. I was the visionary and he, the task master. Together, him, I and the Holy Spirit, built the foundation of our new future, expectant for what was to come and for what the Father had in store.

(Part Two coming soon)

There.

I’ve asked the question that gives a Christian so much shame, confusion and frustration.

I understand that this struggle isn’t a Jesus-thing. It’s a me-thing. Jesus is all that is good and holy. He’s none of the above that has brought me to this question and matter.

Walking through infertility has brought out the best and worst of me. A few years ago when I was seeking answers and venturing through the unknowns, I was in the front lines of battle. Weapon in hand. A spit fire for God. Ready for aim at the Enemy. My future was so unclear, which brought worry and anxiety. But my faith would override any source of retaliation from the opposing side.

As months and years have passed, I have slowly sunken into the background. Sword and shield still in hand. Not in front for protection. Instead, at my side, hanging low. Ready for release.

So many that surround me continue to march forward. Their faith and intercession keeps me on the battlefield even though I feel as though I have no contribution to the fight.

What has led me here?

What has caused the momentary defeat?

ME.

I’m not a natural born competitor. I’m introvertedly okay with me doing my own thing. Going at my own pace. I guess that’s the artist in me! But what does this trait have to do with praying? Well, simply put, spiritual warfare overwhelms me. Discouragement creeps in and whispers, “You don’t have it in you.” I settle there and make camp, sometimes, providing the enemy a place to come & steal from me.

I’m a realist. I take things very literally. Believing for things I cannot grasp exhausts me. But I WANT to believe. So I try and push forward. POF can sometimes ring more true than what Jesus promises. I hate that about myself. Because again, I hope and pursue to believe the Truth.

I’m task oriented. You tell me to do something in A, B, C order, it’s done. I’m not so much centered around the conversation, but rather making sure everything surrounding the social event is thriving and inviting. Coffee made✔️ Enough seating✔️ Clean environment✔️ Everyone’s invited✔️ Serving others✔️
I LOVE serving and giving of myself in this way. However, when combining my uncompetitive, realistic and task oriented mind in a prayerful and battlefield setting, I become very frustrated and overwhelmed with things that are “not happening yet.” I feel as though I am doing everything that is asked of me with no outcome. So I give up and surrender to myself instead of surrendering to God.

I have used time as a measure of broken promise. Time has let me down, and I have directly correlated that to Jesus letting me down.

Writing and sharing my imperfections enables me to lay out all that is running through my mind. It allows me to calculate what is true, and even more so, what is a lie.

So as I type, I release what isn’t of Him onto words on this page. I reclaim the truth that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I will surrender to Him instead of to my worries and doubts.

I WILL press forward lifting my weapons in hand and continuing to fight the good fight. I hope to believe. I will make way for the promise. I ask for Faith to receive it.

It’s not something that I want to do. I’m completely frustrated yet overwhelmingly exhausted and desperate for relief. So what choice do I have?
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I resent being here. In this place. It’s the point where the line of helplessness and the line of control intersect. You see, I chose this. Hence, the line of control, or rather, the line of faith. Contrarily, I am helpless because I cannot make my body do something that it doesn’t want to do. I can’t fix it. Only the One mightier than me has that power.

Two months ago, I decided to get off of my hormone replacement therapy. If you asked my doctors about this decision, they wouldn’t be happy with me. Which is why I have not shared this with them. Moreover, this isn’t the first time that I gave my body a break.

It takes about two or three weeks for the hormones to wear off and the menopause to kick in.

I rebuke it. I’m not in agreement with it. I ignore it. I cast it out and speak life to replace it.

If this is the result of ending treatment, then why stop and interfere?!

Because each time, including this time, that I stop taking my HRT, I take a leap of Faith. Asking my Father, “Heal me this time. I give you full range.”

I do believe that God gives us doctors, medication and so much more to use for His Greater Good. But is it too much for me to ask of Him that I want MORE than that?

No.

I want what Elizabeth, Hannah, Sarah and the rest received. A miracle from the ground up.

This isn’t about infertility for me. YES, I want biological children! I want to experience pregnancy! BUT, I also want my body not to go through a physical battle each and every day. I want a healing. I want my inheritance.

The last two Sundays in church were very emotional for me. A couple of Sundays ago, I decided to visit a Church that was a town over from mine. This church is on fire for God!!! The community, the people, the ministry is full of the Holy Spirit. I wanted to put myself in this environment in hopes that I can experience a supernatural healing. The sermon was about the Prodigal Son. The preacher shared about how the Son asked for and spent all of his portion of his father’s life savings. His sinful ways left him poor, broken, alone and desperate. Conflicted, he made his way back home with the intentions of serving his father as one of his servants, knowing that he would be well taken care of. To his surprise, his Father welcomed him with an open embrace. He celebrated and feasted his son’s return. The older brother was confused and frustrated. He didn’t understand the celebratory dinner or excitement. He was angry and didn’t know why he never received such a Feast. He questioned his father wondering why he never received this type of celebration. His father told him, “What is mine has always been yours.”

I’ve heard this parable many, many times. But this particular sermon frustrated me to tears. I couldn’t help but place myself in the oldest son’s shoes. I thought, “I am the older son.” I have always chosen to stay with my Father. Never leaving. Always faithful and grateful despite the journey it has been.

As I was listening and hanging onto every word the preacher was saying, I looked up to heaven in the midst of the never ending hot flashes and exhaustion asking God why haven’t you healed me?! I’ve always been HERE! By your side. Honoring you. Loving you. Should I leave and come back to THEN receive the healing feast?!

I wanted to feel at home in this church. I wanted to feel welcomed and embraced. I didn’t. Instead, I felt misunderstood. Overlooked. Unimportant because of consistency. Not necessarily from the congregation, but from my Father.

Fast forward to this past Sunday. Terry and I went to the 6pm service due to our busy mornings. We arrived at church a few minutes early only to find it filled with people. There was no room to sit besides the “cry room”. So without hesitation, that is where we went.

Mass started, and I could feel it coming. The heat growing and rising in my chest and cheeks. Eventually, spreading throughout my entire body and ending with perspiration on the back of my neck, under my arms and behind my knees. Hot flash... More like heat exhaustion.

Terry could see my struggle. He started whispering prayers over me. “Jesus heal her body. I pray that this is the last hot flash she ever has. God heal her in the name of Jesus!”
Ending with amen, we both were desperately believing.

Uninvited, another came. Terry repeated his prayers over me once again rebuking this dreaded symptom.

Unfortunately, another.

And another.

We don’t understand why we are here. I know it isn’t about works to receive everything that our Father has for us. The Cross did that. We are just ready for the manifestation of my healing to take place. We pray for it. We claim it. We receive it.

Where is it?

This is why I am here. Back to the patch and the cycle of hormones. I don’t want to say that this is defeat. Because it isn’t. My body is just feeling worn and tired, and I don’t know what else to do. Not to mention, HRT brings its own set of side effects and hurdles.

If these last few weeks have taught me anything, it is that what I am dealing with is real and more prominent then ever. Experiencing symptoms I haven’t yet experienced thus far.

However, we continue to believe and push though this desolate season. I refuse to accept this condition over my life. I still love Him. I still trust Him. I’m so so grateful for Him. I will continue to ask my Father for my inheritance trusting that I will receive it when the harvest is ripe.

And maybe then, I will fully understand that what is His has truly always been mine.

My Jesus, I am humbled and totally wrecked at the fact that you fully embrace me every single time I surrender myself to you. Completely at a loss as to why I guard myself from you in the first place.

Tonight, I read about the parable of the Wedding Feast you shared with the chief priests. My heart is broken. The King invited many to His Son’s Wedding Feast, but those who were asked refused the invitation. Pursuing once more, the King sent out more servants to insure that His hopeful guests would receive and accept His invitation. But to no avail, they still refused and even killed the King’s servants. At last, the Feast was ready. The King instructed His servants to go out into the streets to invite anyone they could find, good and bad alike. Finally, the hall was filled with people to celebrate. But when the King came out to greet His guests, not everyone was prepared or even presentable to participate in His Feast. He casted out those who were not in the correct garments into the darkness. Though many were invited, not all were chosen!

This hit me hard. I felt for the King. He beckoned for others to come celebrate and partake in His Feast!

Can we just let this resonate with us for a moment. Think about how much effort, love, time, selflessness and heart went into preparing this Feast?! Not only the Feast, but each invitation written and personally delivered to each guest. Can you imagine planning a wedding for your son or daughter and absolutely no one shows up?! After all the prepping and organizing, nobody to witness or enjoy everything that was intended for them to be apart of.

This flooded me with compassion, sympathy and longing because I DON’T want to miss MY King’s Feast!! I want to be selected! I want to show up clothed in the wedding garment and filled with the Holy Spirit!! I don’t want to be distracted by what the world and my own little realm can potentially drown me with. I don’t want to miss the invitation to my Wedding with my Bridegroom. I want to become one with the Spirit and partake in the Feast that awaits me.

I don’t want to be invited, but completely and utterly CHOSEN!

Matthew 22:1-14

Today is April 23, 2018! Day Two of National Infertility Awareness Week! Women and men all over the world are sharing their stories, struggles, emotions, journeys, trials and victories that have come with the title “Infertile”. If you belong to this community, you have been grafted into the “1 in 8!” The #infertilitycommunity has such a mothering presence who immediately welcomes everyone feeling and dealing with the weight of infertility and all that comes with it.

I remember the overwhelming love, support and understanding that I received from this community when I first started sharing about my diagnosis of Premature Ovarian Failure and the heartache and triumphs that have followed along since! I felt so validated and so heard! I absolutely loved being able to share my faith and the work that God was doing within! As my relationship with God deepened through my dependence on Him throughout my journey, I knew that there was something more to this whole “barren” thing than just one day receiving God’s promises and prayed-for miracles!

As a couple of years passed by and as God continuously prompted my heart to share small victories and struggles, He slowly placed a new “Identity” on my heart. An identity that has been indelibly marked on my soul since my baptism, and since I welcomed Him into my life as my Lord and Savior.

It was at the end of last summer when my treatments were coming to an end. We were so thankful and grateful for NaProTechnology and all doctors involved with my treatment and care, but I knew it was time to fully and completely immerse into the depth of my Heavenly Father and solely rely on Him and His Word! His promises are YES and AMEN! I knew that I had to completely let go of the title “Infertile” and to totally grasp onto my true Identity in Christ alone!

It has been the MOST pivotal moment throughout my entire infertility journey!! However, it has been the one moment where it has absolutely nothing to do with barrenness at all!

Today, God spoke and revealed to my heart that even though the world and infertility identifies us as the “1 in 8”, HE identifies each of us as HIS “1 in 99”! The one who our Shepherd will go out and rescue! The one that is worth saving no matter what we have done nor what we are going through!! Once we are found in Him, we are made whole! Therefore, it doesn’t matter WHAT our diagnosis may be! We now see through the eyes of our Father and know that He is the Great Physician only receiving His Report!!

So if you find yourself in a place today where even after all of the testing, poking and treatments, you are still searching for answers, hope and healing, join in prayer with me for our total surrender and trust in our Savior:

“Lord God, I’m seeking You! I don’t know why I am in this desert place. I want to enter into all that You are and surrender every worry, diagnosis, pain, suffering, lie from the enemy, control, spoken word curse, hurt and negative feeling to You, and I place it at the foot of the Cross! I want to dive into Your Holy and Healing Presence! I want You to overtake me! I come out of agreement with infertility and into agreement with Your Perfect Will over my life! Forgive me for all of my faults and sins! I want to be made whole!! In Jesus name amen!!”

12 What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? 13 And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. 14 In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish. Matthew 18:12-14

Coming into the new year, 2018, I was confident that this year would be different! Not necessarily meaning that this would be “THE YEAR” that I would finally receive the promises and healing that I’ve been trusting for, because I am patient and hopeful that God’s timing will be perfect! BUT more so, looking back on 2017 victories in Faith, I just KNEW this year would be victorious too!
As 2017 came to a close, I decided that I wanted to use my time constructively in the upcoming year. I graduated in December, and I knew I wanted to have purpose within the time that my husband is away. (He works in the oilfield.) My two jobs have been wonderful! One helping children in a therapeutic environment and the other being an amazing fashion opportunity. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend my time!

Now that we are in the season of Lent and it being the first day of Spring, I can’t help but to reminisce.

I know where God has brought me. I know where I have been. I look back over the course of these past three years, and I’m so thankful with what God has done to my heart. The full manifestation of the miracle we have been praying for may not yet have taken place, but that doesn’t mean God hasn’t been mending the vital organs within me that needed healing too! The journey has with out a doubt been enduring and trying. I’ve been tested more than I have been affirmed. However, I’ve fallen so incredibly in love with what God has done and with Him too.

Two thousand seventeen has been a monumental year. I found and grasped my identity in Christ alone. It has been the most powerful and unshakable experience in my walk with Him.

So as I reflect on the mountain that I have climbed, I find myself glancing out upon the horizon, seeing how far I have traveled and wondering exactly where I stand. Although, I know the significant work God has done in my life, I can’t help but wonder where He has me now.

Where I am currently is such a new and unexpected place to be. Enjoying the view and scenery, I know that it’s only a resting place. I’m still trying to find who I am within it all.. Who I am in Christ within it all. Also, some of the relationships I’ve had along the way have taken their own individual paths making me realize only I can venture these new heights alone.

I don’t know how long I’ll be on this ledge, but I pray that I can find purpose while I am here. Every second of our lives have so much opportunity to be the light and to use everything for His Good. I want to live each moment bringing forth greatness for His Kingdom. I want my Identity in everything that I do to radiate Him, and in return I will be fulfilled and satisfied.

1 Peter 1:3-9
3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you,5who are being protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. 6In this you rejoice,* even if now for a little while you have had to suffer various trials, 7so that the genuineness of your faith—being more precious than gold that, though perishable, is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honour when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8Although you have not seen* him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, 9for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

Since I was a teenager, I loved to read about love. Not just the Twilight series or the Hunger Games where two young people had to overcome tremendous obstacles and personal struggles to win the hearts of the ones that they loved (don’t get me wrong, these were great reads!) BUT the TRUE and REAL kind of love stories! The stories that talked about courting. The stories that talked about saving yourself for marriage and how significant, wonderful and holy it is. The love stories that talked about sex and marriage. The stories that talked about what being a holy couple living for God entailed.

These books that were filled with knowledge, truth and scripture were so encouraging. They had so much depth and explanation to “the two becoming one”. These books totally illustrated what the love between man and wife are purposed to produce! My spirit GOT it and understood it! At such a young age I desired this type of love and knew that it was where God was calling me to be. I prepared myself through Christ for this love and role my entire adolescent life.

Soon, I met Terry at the age of 17. I fell so completely and wholeheartedly in love with him. We wanted the same things in life. We talked about our future together, starting a family and our dreams. Once we were engaged, we knew that the opportunity to potentially become parents was quickly approaching. We were so ready.... and three years later, we continue to wait fervently.

Over the last couple of weeks, my heart and mind have been in a place I haven’t fully been to yet. “Why isn’t our love enough?”

God created husband and wife with purpose and each of us in His image. He made male and female different. One not making sense without the other, but when joined, miraculous! He created us to represent and imitate the LOVE between the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

So if this was God’s Will, and if this was His plan for us, why are me and Terry so broken? Why isn’t our love enough?

Where was THIS part in the books that I had read so intently? Now knowing how many of us struggle, why wasn’t this even mentioned just a tad?

My mind can’t wrap around this concept. It has been a constant thought of “Where did we go wrong?! What haven’t we done right?! Did we not meet the criteria?”

So this is where I am guys. “Where the rubber meets the road.”

I know that faith isn’t about seeing and tangibility. Faith isn’t even about feeling. Because if it were, I would not even be able to tell you which way was up right now. Faith is about believing in the promises of Christ when all odds are against the very thing He has already spoken. Faith is fighting to stand through the shaken and weariness, but with trembling, locked knees you hold your ground.

So why isn’t our love enough? I don’t know. My heart doesn’t understand it at all. Even my spirituality doesn’t fully comprehend it. But what I do understand deeply is that our Father’s Love is enough, and that’s more than enough to compensate.

I may not always feel complete and whole within myself or within my marriage, but I trust in He Who covers all of the broken parts and seeps through all of the empty cracks. THAT is where the miraculous happens. Through the surrender and dependence on our Bridegroom.

Our Love isn’t enough, but HE is MORE than sufficient.

Tonight, I am sitting in my living room by myself, sipping on some coffee, looking at my boxed up tree (that will be put up and decorated at some point this week), and thinking about the past 2 years and 11 months of marriage. In such a short amount of time, I have grown so much. WE have grown so much. And I feel prompted to share a little bit about it.

January 16, 2015 was such a gorgeous, perfect day. The sun was shining, the air was cool and crisp, and all of the special ladies in my life were singing, dressing, playing, talking, reminiscing and laughing with me. We were preparing and getting ready for a very special, awaited, prayed for and significant moment in my life. 

There was a knock on the door to the little cottage that we were dressing in. A delivery to me from my soon-to-be husband.  It was a beautiful string of pearls with earrings and a bracelet to match. Traditional. Just like I always wanted. 
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Now, my memory brings me to the church.  A Catholic Cathedral.  My daddy watching me as I'm holding my bouquet walking towards him and the two huge, wooden, exterior doors. Such a bittersweet moment. Such an innocent moment.  We hugged, smiled, whispered and then, walked towards my future. Entering a new. 

The ceremony was perfect! It was holy, anointed and full of love! Because of pictures, Terry and I were the last to leave the church. Everyone else had gone before us, including my parents. I remember riding in the limo, just the two of us, completely alone and feeling as though I was in a dream.

We had just crossed over the Sunshine Bridge, a bridge that crosses over the Mississippi River, and we noticed a three car accident to the right of us. I told Terry, I hope its not anybody that we know. As we approached the wreck, I saw one of my uncles, and then I saw my daddy. 

It was my parents...

The wreck was right before an intersection. Terry and I both screamed at the limo driver to pull over!! It all happened so fast. One minute I am on the way to my reception with my new husband, and the next, I'm alone in a limo, in my bridal gown unable to get out, awaiting the news if my mom and dad are okay. After what seemed like hours, Terry ran back to me, and confirmed that my parents were involved in the 3 vehicle wreck, and that their car was the one in the middle. He also told me that my mom was having to go to the hospital. I immediately called her. As we were talking, I could tell she was giving me her "brave face".  I didn't want to leave her, but she insisted that we go to our reception even though she didn't know if they would be able to make it or not. 

In this moment, our marriage was already being put to the test. 

Why?! Why were we so suddenly dealing with such a battle?! 

Once we arrived to our reception, our bridal party greeted us with such excitement, happiness and much needed encouragement. My pawpaw had already informed everyone about what had happened, so everyone was prepared to embrace and love on us. 

We did our first dance. We cut the cake. We took pictures. We greeted and spoke with everyone. We waited.

Throughout the night we kept getting mixed word on whether or not my parents were being released from the hospital and able to join us. I wanted so badly to enjoy our wedding, but it felt too selfish to and I was fighting and in complete "survival" mode. I didn't even get to have my dance with my daddy.

A couple of hours had passed. I remember hearing shouts of joy. I heard that my parents had arrived!! I stopped  whatever I was doing and ran towards the entrance. Me and my mom embraced!! I clung to my daddy!! My whole family was around me, and there was not one dry eye in the room! My mom took my hand and rose it in the air as we walked onto the dance floor!! Victory!

Terry and I did our "First Dance" a second time. Then, I finally got to dance with my daddy to our song, "Cinderella."  It was the first time that I ever seen him cry! After our dance, Daddy grabbed me, my siblings and my mom, and we all sobbed , prayed and rejoiced together.  Now when we speak of this symbolic moment, we call it "The Huddle."   

Fortunately, the night ended in two celebrations. Terry and I left for our honeymoon the following day. And my parents took time to recover and heal.

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Fast forward to present, I am still healing from this surreal experience. Through the power of our Almighty Father, I have already overcome so much. 

I share a lot about "Joy" and "Choosing Joy" and "The Joy of the Lord."  Its because joy was stolen from me on the most holy and significant day of my life. It impacted me emotionally more than I ever could imagine that it would. Moreover, being that I stopped having periods four months later, added more struggle and took away additional joy. 

So why did such a thing like this happen? I consciously try to put things such as this into a spiritual perspective. Was it Intercession? Healing? Purpose? A Testament? Did it bring forth a need for someone who witnessed it?

What I do know is that it has fulfilled a bond I have longed for. It has called me to grow in faith and in unity with my husband. It was a beginning to many new seasons in my life.

Thankfully, God has given back what the devil tried to steal. He is continually depositing more joy, faith, surrender and hope into my spirit. 

A few weeks ago, Terry and I fulfilled a desire that God put on my heart to do. We did what I like to call a "Second Look." These pictures capture the moments that were stolen on that very special night. Moments we are now dwelling in today. A new love, a new joy and a "letting go" of the past. 

I will continue to overcome. I will continue to share my heart. And I will continue to choose joy! ​