Trust in the waiting

Trust in the waiting

We already love you both. And that’s why this is hard. And beautiful too. And exciting too. We have known about you for four years. It’s like a pregnancy of the mind that lasts for a long time, the thought of you always there. For four years you’ve been a dream, and now we’re so close to you becoming a reality. But we’re still in the waiting. We’re still in the not-there-yet, not-official-yet, and that makes me want to stop and cry. It’s the greatest mix of emotions: I’m pregnant, that we know and rejoice over. But when we placed you both in your little home inside of me, exactly 30 days ago, we haven’t been able to know since then what’s taken place. Are you both in there? Have you both implanted? Shawn says you have. He says you’re close together and comfy in there.
We will know more soon. We will look for two heartbeats on the monitor. We will anticipate two souls close together and ready to grow side by side. It’s one of those times I want to grasp onto what I think should happen. I don’t want to hand over the notebook and pen to this story, even though God has written a faithful beginning and ending to every chapter we have entrusted to Him so far. (And even those chapters we haven’t handed over.) A tear slips away, splashing onto my cheek. We want to hear two heartbeats, God, because that’s what our hearts are set on, but we know your plan is a good one.
There’s always a choice in the waiting: it’s whether or not we’ll trust the One worth trusting.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *