Sunday, May 13, 2012
This morning I sat in a pew at our church and felt overwhelmed. We served on staff at this church many years ago and after a season away, we returned here for a time of healing and restoration. Eight years ago today, in this church, our Pastor closed the mother's day service by praying for couples who were struggling with infertility. For anyone who doesn't know our story, we hoped and dreamed and prayed for seven years to be parents. I was told by doctors that I would never conceive without medical help. After years of failed procedures, medicines, and a drained savings account, we had come to the end of ourselves. We walked forward that day and were prayed for. Three months later we were blessed to stand before that congregation of people who had prayed for us, cried with us, encouraged us and tell them that I was expecting a miracle. God had healed me. I was pregnant with no medical intervention, just Divine intervention! This morning I walked memory lane. I remembered the years of devastation and disappointment. I remembered the years of wanting to skip church on mother's day because I was so sad. I remembered the pages of promises, prophetic words, and scriptures God had given over those years. I remembered the moment the Dr.'s office called to confirm what I already suspected. The joy, the tears, the feel of my babies the first time they were placed into my arms. I looked into the faces of my three beautiful miracles and I was overwhelmed.