Not the team I'd like to be on...

Driving home from HAIRSPRAY (more on that tomorrow, thanks Thorntons!), I had some time to think. I know you all can remember getting picked for something and the feeling that comes with that. Getting picked to play on the PE dodgeball team, getting picked to sit with the popular girls, getting picked for the softball team, getting picked by that really hot guy for that date, or that banquet, getting picked by your sorority to join, getting picked by "the one" (with hopefully a fancy diamond)...When I think about getting picked for those things, I feel happy, content, proud. But what about when you're picked for something that you don't want to do, or don't think you can handle?
This past week has been quite a doozy. My friend Heather got implanted with two healthy embryos and is awaiting to see if she's pregnant. Another friend, Taylor, after years of battling infertility, lost her sweet baby Nathan just a few moments after he was born, due to a genetic disorder, Trisomy 13. My friend Rachel started her meds to begin her 5 week invitro adventure. And I, after a month off of Clomid, got another visit from "Aunt Flo", though expected, its never fun. I began thinking tonight about all of these women. I know when we were kids, and we wrapped our favorite baby dolls up in blankets and pushed them in strollers, we never dreamed having a child might not be in our future, and at the very least, we would have so much hardship in something that we were always taught was so natural.
Then I started to think about the blind man in John 9. I, like the blind man, have contemplated that my infertility has been punishment for certain things that I've done wrong. Many of you know, (or have heard), that I have not had the most honorable past...shocking for a PK, right? I've struggled before with blaming myself and putting loads of pressure on myself to give my husband a child. I mean, no other woman in my family ever had trouble conceiving, why should I? But then I seek comfort in the words Jesus said to this man moments after healing him, "This happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life." You see, God chose this man to display His mighty work. And I, like my friends Heather, Rachel and Taylor have been chosen so that the work of God might be displayed in our lives. That it's not by our power or work, but by HIS alone that we are healed.
So now I sit with these thoughts running through my head. God chose me to carry this burden. He could have given me a baby in 2006 when Brian and I first started trying. But instead he CHOSE me for this team. And I have to wonder how much I have displayed the work of God in my life since we began our infertility journey. I've been frustrated to the point of yelling at God. I've been jealous, jealous of the new mothers at church that get to hold their babies, jealous of the moms that have little ones running around their legs, jealous of my family and close friends and the bonds that they share with their children. I've been angry. Angry that the beautiful house and life that Brian and I share would be wonderful to bring a child into, but so far, is still empty. I've prayed that God give me a baby, or to take this desire from me, so far He has done neither. I've prayed for faith, yet continuously doubt.
And I'm now at a crossroad. God is waiting on one side, beckoning me to come sit at His feet and put all of my trust and hopes in Him, waiting to give me the peace that comes with the understanding that He is in control and He is already with me and my children. And fear and darkness is sitting on the other side, waiting for me to continue down the road that I'm on, only to take every last hope, every last ounce of peace I hold away.
No, this is not the team I'd like to be on. I'd like to be on the team that has other problems but at least has her husband and her children. I'd like to be on the team where I get to say, "I'm just so tired, cause you know you don't sleep once you have kids". I'd like to be on the team that gets to complain about morning sickness and late night feedings, scraped knees and doctor bills. But I didn't get picked for that team, at least not yet. God chose me for this team. And sometimes looking at the giants of faith that I'm playing with, I don't know how well I'll do. But I know that my God is calling the plays. He's watching the pitches and He's waiting for just the right second to put me in the game. I just hope that I'm ready when He calls me to the plate.