By Mary Bruno
Imagine you’re leisurely walking down a path in the jungle of life when a vine lunges out from the dirty ground to latch onto your ankle. It catches you by surprise as it jerks you backwards, momentarily stopping you in your tracks.
You yank your leg repetitively to break free from its hold, but that only produces a sore ankle. You grab something sharp and hack the vine’s freedom from the earth so that you can move around almost freely … settling back into life, but learning how to incorporate your new leg ornament into your daily grind – maybe even making you stronger, if you let it.
That vine is infertility. God’s grace is the sharp object.
Infertility had a hold on me for some time. But, as with any suffering, God is closer than it often feels. He allows us to experience certain trials on earth to give us opportunities to grow in unity with him.
Initially, it feels silly to think that challenges will actually make us better; closer to Christ. But then we are reminded of his cross, the ultimate act of love that shattered the division between humanity and eternity with our creator.
The cross is the only way to the resurrection, and it is no different for us.
God gives us everything we need, but we can choose not to accept his help. Picking up the sharp object to hack into freedom often means willingly stepping into our pain and accepting God’s plan for our lives, painfully loosening the grip from our own plans.
The beauty is that our father loves us passionately and wants nothing less than to fulfill every single desire of our hearts.
There is often great pain in detaching from the plans born from our limited foresight. But, when plans are forfeited in surrender to a loving God, we experience true joy that only he can bring.
Infertility was unexpected for my husband and myself, but so was the joy we received once we learned to conform our hearts to God’s will, rather than attempting to force his will to fit our plans.