I look at this photo and wonder how in such a short time, God has given us a literal pile of tiny humans to bring up in this world. Less than five years ago I was longing for just one child, crying out to him to fill this desperate desire of my heart. And now, I can’t even keep their names straight. Kidding!…kind of. But honestly while it feels like this family was built in a whirlwind blink of an eye, I also lament weekly—fine, daily—that it has been almost five long years and my big boys are not even technically our sons yet. Time is fickle and tricky, and God’s mysteries are real y’all. Waiting is hard, downright torturous at times. But if there’s one thing I’ve come to know for certain, it’s that He calls us each to our seasons of waiting with purpose. He builds us there. He fortifies our hearts. He clears our minds so that we may see His will.
Now I write this full well admitting that I have to relearn it weekly. I am so flawed, y’all, and this is one of my biggest struggles. Because I just want to know. I want to know when the happily ever after will come. I want to know why I’m waiting. I want to know every inner detail of the plan before executing it, every wind and bump on the path before choosing to follow it. I want to prepare my heart, I want to fill my head with plans B, C and D in case X, Y or Z happens. But when I slow down and think I’m able to see that spiral of uncertainty, that need for control for what it is: a lack of faith in His plan, in His foresight, in His ability to carry me through any struggle along this life He has called me to.
You will never ever hear me utter that cringeworthy cliche: “God won’t give you more than you can handle,” because sister, He can and He will. LIKE A LOT. That quote is a load of BS without the final two words that make all the difference, but are so often forgotten: with Him. God won’t give you more than you can handle with Him. God will often give us a heavier burden than we think we can carry, because he is urging us to remember, or maybe realize for the first time, that we never carry that burden alone. That weight is shared with Him. He who made the sun and the stars is capable of anything. And whenever life seems to be unravelling and the load seems too great, that is when I hear Him calling me the loudest. Calling me back to His arms which carry the strength of the world.
The waiting can feel like such a cross to bear, especially in times of struggle. But we all have our time in that season, some more often than others. And our waiting looks different from person to person, the same as our struggles do. It may pull different things from each of us: anxiety, impatience, sadness, frustration, weariness. There’s a pretty good chance your waiting is not the adoption of your two sons. Maybe you’re still in my first wait for motherhood. Maybe you’re waiting for a partner, or a purpose, a job or an open door. Maybe you’re waiting for a cure, or maybe you’re waiting to just catch a freaking break. Whatever your waiting is, whatever your struggle is, I pray you would bring it back to Him. Set that cross down as His feet, tell Him you’re no longer strong enough to bear it alone. Then see how He lifts you up and carries you through. He’s held me up many times in this waiting, and He’ll be with me till those hearts come off and long, long after.
