Prisoners of HOPE

I am pregnant with twins. 19 weeks actually, and YES! I am counting. And I want to say that being pregnant is hard. It’s really HARD. And one of the things that makes it so difficult is that I don’t want to SAY it’s difficult. I want to be grateful. I want to be a delight to those around me, especially to my sweet husband. I don’t want him to know that I feel frustrated and fat and tired. Oh! How many times I have said, “I am tired,” in the past months! My pathetic, tired refrain. I want to move around, fast, like I used to, I don’t want to be sore, all the time. I am always sore, always in pain, just some days are more painful than others.

I want to rejoice in the Lord. I want to live like I know that it could be so much worse. I could be sick each day, I could be on bed rest, I could lose my sweet babies. I love these babies so much. I feel them move and I think, “Who are you? What do you love? What will you love to learn about? To think about?” I think of them and I feel so small.

Who am I to teach you, to love you, to protect you?

If I am tired and grumpy now, how will I have the strength to be selfless when you need me so much?

I watch my sweet husband, who never lashes out at me, despite my own overreactions and meltdowns. Who holds me and smiles at me and talks to me like I am still a sane human. Who listens and bears all things. And all I want to do is be encouraging and show him that I love him and to take care of him. Most days, I can’t even cook a meal. I am so spent by the time I get home that I fall asleep wherever I am.

I get angry or I cry. Or both.

Getting ready to leave the house is this awful process of choosing something to wear that of course, manages to make me look even more huge than I am. And by the time I’m ready to leave, I want to go back to bed. Correction. I never want to get out of bed.

But the thing is, I am doing really well actually, I mean comparatively. People don’t really talk about it, but everything I just said is (relatively) normal, so I’m told. But how do I do it? How does anyone really do this? Live well through this? Without denying the awfulness of everything, but at the same time, rejoicing, trusting, loving, and living in His grace?

A couple of days ago my Mom showed me Zechariah 9:12 where God tells His people,

“Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope; 

even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.”

Well, with twins, we’ve got the twice as much part all sewn up. But not even! He promises that He will give TWICE what we had, and states that I am a prisoner of that hope. That I need to return to my fortress of hope. And I think that is the key. That even when I feel all these things, that I do not leave hope. That knowledge that God will provide. That He will heal, that He will restore, but even more so, that in the waiting for the healing and the restoring, He will provide. All that I need and more.

How do I reconcile this truth with my seemingly tangible reality? I know enough to know that God’s truth is more real than anything I think or feel or experience. So the truth is that He is enough. That in Him are all things.

In Him is my answer. Maybe all this is just Him is showing me that I am loved despite what I can accomplish in a day or what I look like or even, how I act. Maybe He is waiting for me to come to the end of my fight to be what I expect I should be and just be His child. To trust Him with each of my days and with my future and with my husband and what he thinks of me and with whatever tomorrow will bring.

To stay in the Fortress of Hope and wait expectantly for God. To look past all the things that took paragraphs to list (aka complain about) and to look at His face and be led to green pastures and still waters. The restoration of my soul.

What is this whole life about? What is each day meant to be for? I always assumed it was to accomplish something. But maybe it is to just look at Jesus. Everyday. To love Him and wonder at His beauty. And leave the accomplishing to Him.

So if you have stuck with me to the end of this rant / surrendered conclusion, thank you. And please pray for me. And pray for all the other young mommas you know. I guess it’s a good reminder of why we should never judge one another, and always love and pray for each other. We are all on, or drowning in, the Oceans of life and it’s only by God’s grace that we see past the waves and walk on the water.

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. (Hebrews 6:19)