I love sleeping in on Saturday mornings. That feeling of waking up whenever you wake up. Bliss.
I love spontaneous dinners with my husband. Last night we were curled up on the couch and I just couldn't bring myself to get up and throw food together. We piled in his truck, drove through the pouring rain and enjoyed a burger and fries while we watched the rain fall outside. Just the two of us. Bliss.
I love Hobby Lobby. I don't presume to understand much about heaven, but it's hard for me to picture heaven being much different than Hobby Lobby. I love shopping for fall decorations in April and Christmas decorations in June. I love seeing something I never would have come in looking for but absolutely have to have and then having a few "extra" dollars to make it my own. Bliss.
There are so many things I love about my life. And as difficult as it is for me to admit, so many of these things seem like they could be easily complicated. By a baby.
Sometimes you see things coming in life, and sometimes they hit you without you even realizing they were coming your way. The "baby deal" is a bit of both for me. Tim and I have been married for six and a half years, we have a house, decent jobs, and money in savings. We have enjoyed a lot of really great things as a couple and have come a long way as husband and wife. If one were to make a checklist as far as the "baby thing" goes, we would come out okay. We have been preparing for this since we got married. Yet, somehow, I can hardly believe it's about that time. Why, why, why such resistance after such planning and preparation?
I've thought long and hard about why I feel so prepared yet hesitant. The root of everything I discovered was fear. Mixed with a few good dashes of selfishness. But mostly fear.
I'm afraid of losing control of my body while I'm pregnant. I'm afraid of stretch marks and everything else that comes with pregnancy that I hesitate to mention on a blog. I'm afraid of gaining a lot of weight and having trouble losing it. I'm afraid of labor. I'm afraid of living on a tight budget. I'm afraid of not being able to financially care for a baby if something unexpected happens. I'm afraid of being tired all the time. I don't want to wake up at all hours of the night on someone else's terms. I don't want to be poor. I want to go out to eat with my husband when I want to. I want to have time to wash my hair daily. I want to take vacations when I want to. I want freedom. I want flexibility. I want control.
I'm afraid. I'm afraid. I'm afraid. I want. I want. I want. It's much uglier on paper than it is in my head. Either way, it's ugly.
The fact of the matter is that in the life of a Christian, there is no place for selfishness and there is no place for fear. Selfishness reflects the belief that my plans and desires for my life are better than what God has in mind for me. Fear demonstrates that I don't believe God will meet my needs.
As I stood in church on Sunday, the weight of my hypocrisy came crashing down on top of me. Ironically enough, it was the first time in many months that I saw my fear for what it really is. A sin.
I stood praising God for His provision in my life, and repenting over and over for the fear I have let rule me. I prayed, "Lord, forgive me for every moment my thoughts and actions have suggested that you are not enough for me, or that you will leave any one of my needs unmet."
I shutter when I think of the blessings I have missed out on in the past and continue to miss out on because I am so resistant to relinquish control of my life. I am sacrificing God's best for something that is simply "good enough," just because I won't release what I'm holding in my hands.
If God's plan for my life in the not-too-distant future involves bags under my eyes, stretch marks, drool, puke and stinky diapers, then I absolutely believe those things hold a bigger blessing than what I'm holding now.
*** Update: Just 43 days after writing this post, I took a positive pregnancy test. ***
