Love Him Even Still

One of my close friends from church has been struggling with infertility. Knowing that I, too am walking this road, she often comes to me with her thoughts and doubts. She made the comment recently that she is jealous of me because I am at peace with is and she is not.

This particular part of her journey (a part I had to battle through in my own journey) is hard because she is looking around at her peers and wanting what they have. Entitlement has been creeping in, undergirding her bitterness. Through the lens of longing, the world seems unfair: unmarried couples are on their third pregnancy, babies are abandoned and left to the system, one-night stands end in abortions.

When these scenarios become the only outlook we have, the devil seems to have the upper hand. God then becomes someone who is blessing the ungodly and overlooking the righteous. Our hearts become so jealous that we can no longer experience joy, our faith takes a plunge, and it is hard to love God.

After a year and a half of riding the jealousy bandwagon that often picks up infertility passengers, I courageously jumped from it. I knew something needed to happen; I selfishly cried when friends told me they were pregnant, I hated hanging out with groups of friends who were moms, my eyes were magnetized to the sleeping babies nestled into car seats of grocery carts, and my heart pined as I wondered what these women did to deserve such a blessing. I was uncomfortable at baby showers, pretending to be happy for the mom-to-be, when inside, I was deeply unsatisfied.

Was this the way God wanted me to live my life?

I will answer that for you. No. After that year and a half, God was sick of my outlook and sick of me blaming him for my misfortunes. My pity party had lasted long enough. He started to reveal the sins I had been clinging to. He told me to let go of my will and, “Let’s go” with his. But boy, was I a stubborn nut to crack! You might think that being a Christian makes it easy to love God, but my heart was set on bitterness towards him. My transformation was a difficult and humbling experience but for the grace of God. Putting my fleshly desires of entitlement aside, I was finally able to let God take my “life is unfair” lens off and start winning the battle against jealousy and discontentment.

Soon, my bitterness toward baby announcements turned into joy for the pregnant woman. My pessimism about my infertility became optimism that someday God will answer my prayers. Change was taking place in my heart. No longer yearning for someone else’s greener grass, I could now sit across from a dear friend and be a beacon of peace in her journey instead of another weary traveler trudging alongside her.

So what was the secret?

We find it in Habakkuk:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,

nor fruit be on the vines,

the produce of the olive fail

and the fields yield no food,

the flock be cut off from the fold

and there be no herd in the stalls,

yet I will rejoice in the LORD;

I will take joy in the God of my salvation. (3:17-18 ESV)

The secret here is to love God even still. Even if life is not giving you what you want. “Yet, I will rejoice.” This choice is hard to make on our own. But w ith these verses fresh in my mind, I began falling in love with the life God had given me, including the infertility.

I was not in love with the trial itself, but in love with what it had given me: opportunities to witness God working in my life. It is through my trials that God uses me. I can be someone others come to for battle strategies when a similar fight is on the horizon for them because they have seen me overcome my bitterness. I’m thrilled to show them the techniques God used to help me win.

If you are in the midst of such a battle right now and feel yourself leaning into bitterness, jealousy, or entitlement, here are some strategies for fixing your eyes on what is pure, lovely, and good:

• Do not lose your grip on the flag of victory. The win might come a long way down the road and include a lot of casualties, but the enemy cannot defeat you because God has already won. This flag of victory is also known as faith.
• Memorize a verse that gives you power in the battle and reminds you of God’s Almighty Perfection.
• Don’t pretend to be strong. Cry when you feel like it. The battle is hard, and there is pain as we long for heaven. Crying keeps us humble.
• Call on the troops! Find someone to help you get into the mindset of winning the battle; someone who can point out when you’re succumbing to temptation to throw a pity party. If you have to pay for that someone’s time(i.e. a therapist), say a prayer over your finances and believe in that prayer so much that you do not hesitate to book an appointment.
• If you find yourself in sin, cast your guilt and shame to the cross. Throw it far away.
• Do something enjoyable for a while. Don’t rewire your brain to think negatively. Little distractions from worry, in my opinion, can be healthy.
• Become for a soldier in someone else’s battle. Support them, pray for them, keep up with how they’re doing. This will help you see the progress they make and help you remember that you can make progress, too.
• Have an abundancy mindset instead of a scarcity one. Looking at how little we have makes us forget how much God is able to give. Looking at how much has has already given helps us believe in what he will continue to give.
• Choose to love God no matter what. Love him even still.

That last one might be the hardest of all. It is difficult to think that a God who loves us would knowingly and willingly allow us to suffer. There will be times when we cry to him and he sees us suffering, yet the trial is not removed. But suffering does not mean love is absent. If we take on that mindset, we sink quickly into bitterness and despair. If we look at the cross and see only pain, we forget the power of love.

The true meaning of the cross is love. God’s ability to turn something bad into something good proves his love for us. We need to believe in this power and apply it to our lives. When we are able to surrender our suffering, we will find the freedom to love God through it. I hope that, when the time comes for you to do battle, you can look at your empty barns, scattered flock, barren fig trees, and dry fields and be able to say, “I am loving God, even still.” Loving him is all we really need in this life.

Audrey Osborn loves sunshine, quiet mornings, half-caf coffee, cute kitties, and anything crafty. She and her husband live in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where they are excited to be pursuing foster care with the hope of bringing love to kids in need.

Photograph © Valentina Aleksandrovna, used with permission