Kiss Your Miracle

My whole life I’ve wanted to be two things: a writer and a wife-mom. (Okay, I guess that’s three things. But wife and mother always went together in my head.) I’ve always written, but sharing my work is something entirely different. It’s scary. What if the person I show it to thinks it’s shallow and awful when it’s full of my deepest, most personal thoughts? That’s why I decided to be a novelist. A fiction writer doesn’t have to give anything away. She tells the thoughts of imaginary people, characters she’s created in her mind. A novelist can be guarded and mysterious. But here’s my problem: I can’t seem to write fiction. The things I have to say all come from my real life. So I would write and keep it to myself.

Then during the middle of our infertility this verse jumped out at me from Psalm 71. “My mouth will tell of your righteous deeds, of your saving acts all day long – though I know not how to relate them all” (v. 15). As I read it, I had this overwhelming feeling that one day God would end our infertility, and I would write about the whole experience – both the pain and the blessings – and actually share it with people. The thought was terrifying to me. At that point we were just starting to talk to people about what we were going through and I couldn’t imagine writing for an audience about such a private thing.

A year later we found out I was pregnant and I immediately thought of the verse. The idea that I would have a miracle story to share astounded me. How could I ever find the words to express what God had done? I felt like David, unsure of how to relate it all. But the Giver of every good and perfect gift had blessed me with exactly what I wanted. How could I keep it quiet? I guess I could write about just the fun baby stuff and leave out all the difficulty. But why would anyone want to read it? I’m not interested in fake perfection and I don’t think anyone else would be either.

To be honest, this blog is a stretch for me. Several people have read it and said things like – You wrote about ovulating and your fallopian tubes and your infertility and anyone can read it! And that’s true. When I think about it too much I’m tempted to delete it. It’s never easy to be vulnerable. But I feel like I’m in this place lately where I don’t see the point in keeping a fence up around my life. I’ve tried that before and it’s a lonely way to live. Being open about my pain, my mistakes, and the things I’m really facing has connected me to my friends and family in a way that guarding my life never did. It’s not that I plan to tell the world every detail of every situation. I still believe in discretion. But there’s a big difference between maintaining a level of privacy and keeping everyone at a distance. I find it hard to relate to someone who appears to have no problems. I’d rather put myself out there, as messy as I am, and say something authentic. It’s worth the risk involved.