Sometimes I feel like my life can be described in two modes—dieting or not dieting.
Do y’all know what I mean?
I’ll start a diet and count all the numbers and say No to all the yummy things, and then I’ll get down to a weight—maybe not my goal weight, but I start to feel good about myself, and those jeans aren’t so tight now, and so what would it hurt to throw in a cookie with my salad. I was healthy. I deserve a little treat, right?
And then BAM. Let the backsliding begin.
A little treat becomes a lot of treats. They’re oh so good. And my jeans still fit, so what’s the harm?
But before I know it, I’m back to that weight, the number that’s like my attention-getter, and I hunker down into serious mode, and everyone around me knows—okay, folks, it’s time to diet again.
No, sorry, I can’t eat your delicious dessert. I’m dieting.
Sorry, I’m not eating bread. Thanks.
And I tell myself, when I start to get back to that “Yeah, this is good” weight I will keep eating like this. It’ll be a lifestyle. Because I feel so much better when I eat the good-for-me food. And so of course, I’m going to stick with it this time.
But then we get invited for Mexican food. And yeah, I should order the taco salad, but man, there’s queso and those enchiladas…..
And voilà. The cycle repeats. It’s like Dr.Eggerichs’ crazy cycle but instead of love and respect, it’s salad or lasagna.
So, can I be vulnerable, friends? (Yeah, more vulnerable than just confessing what my nutritional cycle looks like on an annual basis. Ha!)
This journey with infertility feels a little like my diet cycle.
Although instead of ‘dieting’ or ‘not dieting,’ it sometimes feels like faith or fear.
I’m full of faith, completely believing that God has good things for us, that we’ve heard His Word on this, that I’m healed and whole and completely capable of bearing children.
And then there’s one little slip up. Like that cookie I eat with my salad.
Maybe I really thought I’d be pregnant one month, but I wasn’t. And instead of running to my good Father with my heart, I protect it. Just a little.
Then a small lie creeps in, a quiet voice that tells me it’s my fault. If I’d had more faith. If I’d done this or that (or not eaten all. the. bread.), then maybe we would’ve gotten pregnant this month.
And then that little lie blossoms into more fear, more doubt.
Before I know it, I’m not just protecting my heart, I’m full-blown hiding it, avoiding the topic, the prayers, the declarations of faith altogether.
But it’s harvest season again. This time of year does something to my heart. I told you last fall how inspired I felt by the neighboring farm, ripe with cotton to harvest.
Our farmers plant seeds, in faith, and expect to see the fruits. They hope for what they cannot see. But they believe—
That God provides.
That God is good.
That God creates and sustains all things.
So here I am—driving by bolls of white cotton every day—and I’m reminded of the faith that He deposited in me, of the promise He’s given me, over and over and over again.
“He makes the barren woman to be the joyful mother of children.”
Dr. Eggerichs talks about how the crazy cycle in marriage is not something we ever stay off of completely, even in the best of marriages (can you tell we’re leading this marriage life group, and I’ve got Love and Respect on the brain?). He says the goal is how quickly you can recognize that you’re ON the crazy cycle and get off it.
Maybe that’s the application here, too. It’s probably unrealistic to think that I’ll be full of faith all the time. Never doubting. Never struggling to believe. Never weary.
But when I get in that place, I’ve got recognize it and get off the cycle quicker.
How about you, my friends?
Maybe it’s not about fertility for you, but is there something you’re believing God for? Is there a dream He’s placed in your heart? Do you battle with fear and doubt?
Let’s recognize when we’re headed down the path of lies and speak truth to our hearts once again.