I've all but fallen off the blogostratosphere.
It's just that I discovered Pepperidge Farm's Shortbread Cookies so I've been busy. Eating cookies.
What an incredible season this has been for our family. I wake up praising God, fall asleep praising Him, and whisper a million prayers of gratitude and thankfulness in between.
When I decided to blog about our history of loss and infertility, I had no idea how God was going to use our story, I just knew that He had a purpose for everything, and most thankfully, that His purpose surpassed my understanding (or lack thereof). Y'all have shared unending stories with me and each time I receive an email or text or phone call, I am so incredibly humbled. My heart breaks with each and every story that is shared, but I know that God will use everything for His glory, in His time. I humbly pray for so many of you each and every day and cover you in a million prayers of Hope.
I have always tried to strive to separate joy from sorrow and sorrow from joy. In seasons of our own personal sorrow and struggle (Lord knows we've had 'em), I tried my hardest to separate that pain from the joy I felt for others. In this sweet, sweet season of joy, it is my prayer that I separate that from the sorrow I still feel for so many precious friends who are in seasons of "waiting". Because of that, I decided that y'all didn't need to read about how big my ankles have gotten or how many stretch marks I have gained or about how I still can't look at my toothbrush without hurling. Those are beautiful, precious, sacred things undoubtedly, but I just don't necessarily feel right about blogging about being pregnant this go round.
Social media floods our minds and hearts with unending images and words that we sometimes welcome and are thankful for, and sometimes are not. So I've been quietly dancing in God's grace with indescribable joy. It's all but shut "Between the Lines" down, but I feel God breathing a peace and quiet over me that I just can't disturb.
This post is for my sweet friends who are still in that tough space--the gap we call the "waiting"...I urge you to cling to the one thing that transcended both our sorrow and now, our joy: HOPE. It really does cover those dark spaces and lights the way for beautiful things yet to come.
To our precious friends and family members who have shared in our joy over the past 6 months, we just cannot thank you enough. I always go back to "shared joy is double the joy and shared sorrow is half the sorrow"--us Davises got really stellar at walking in seasons of chaos and I have to say, we could sure get used to frolicking in these sweet seasons of joy.