As some of you know, I attended a Christian Writer’s Conference almost
two weeks ago, and one of the main themes of the retreat was about
writing fearlessly from the heart. As part of the exercise, the
presenter, Caleb Breakey, asked us to write a scene that had to do with
something that weighed heavily on us, but there was a catch – we had to
be real, raw, and honest. We also only had fifteen minutes to write it!
At the end, he asked if anyone wanted to share. I decided to share mine
because I know that sometimes the journey of infertility feels like a
lonely one, but I have found that sharing my struggle shows other women
that they are not alone. Guess what happened when I shared it? xD
Afterwards, Caleb implored me to share my writing, and I figured here
would be the best place to. I don’t know who needs to read this, but I
present to you my “Fearless Writing”:
I purchased the painting to give me encouragement, to give me hope when I started slipping back into darkness – yet now it seems to mock me. The image, hung on my bedroom wall, is a simple yet elegant line drawing of Hannah begging at the temple for a child, with Eli the prophet standing behind her, reaching out to her. The yellowed papyrus-like background is a consistent contrast to the constant one-red-line white plastic sticks that follow me relentlessly. I looked to this painting for hope, once. If the Lord heard Hannah in her motherless distress, surely He could hear me in mine? For her, having a baby was not merely about status – her husband even affirmed this. “Am I not more important to you than ten sons?” I believe it was the longing to carry and birth a child, to participate in something so holy that drove her to this point.
I have examined the scene many times; Hannah was so distraught that Eli thought she was drunk or, worse, out of her mind. How many times had I felt like I had gone insane, what with the hope of finding two stupid lines on a test, only for my hopes and life to be dictated by one?
I often wonder if God gave me this desire to torment me – though I know that is not His character. Otherwise, though, why would I have it?
One thing is certain; He has never been so close to me and my family. I may feel crazy, but He has shown me His love. He is reaching out to me as I beg at His gates. I have found my hope – not in motherhood, which may never be granted me – but in my Rock, the Lover of my soul.
A. L. Bowker
Photo credit: BibleSketches on Etsy