Lesson in life

I watched a very interesting movie last night. I'm not sure how I feel about the actual movie, but I got a good lesson out of it. It's called "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button." Martie brought it home and I watched it after she went to bed. It's about a boy who is born old and instead of getting older, he gets younger. Well, he birth father just puts him on a porch step and another woman finds him and keeps him. He ends up calling her "Mama" and she assumes the role of his mother. After a few years (I'm not sure how long) she goes to something like a tent-revival where there is healing going on. She asks for prayer that God would open her womb. Then a while after that there is a scene where she announces to a room full of people that God has finally answered her prayers for a child. It then showed Benjamin's reaction. YOu can tell that he is very hurt that she didn't consider him an answer to her prayers even though she assumed the role of his mother. It really convicted me of something. Yes, we adopted Martie. We are now her parents legally. We take care of her and provide for her. We even give her love and guidance. But I realized that I am like that woman. I don't realize the blessing that is right under my nose. I keep grieving over the fact that I don't have a baby of my own and I keep asking God to open my womb, but what about the child that God has given me that didn't come from my womb. I should know as well as anyone that it doesn't matter if a woman gave birth to you or not. She can still be a mother to you. Am I making Martie feel like Benjamin felt when his "mama" finally had her prayers answered? Is she wondering why I don't consider her the answer to my prayers? Does it make her feel like she's not good enough?

Lord, forgive me if this is the case. Thank you for letting a strange movie speak to me in such a powerful way. I guess that goes to show that Yo can speak to anyone in any way. Thank you for showing me this before it is too late. Show me how to love Martie the way I need to love her. I love you.
Amen

Growing

I've come to hate it when I suspect that I'm pregnant. For one, most times I'm not pregnant. Secondly, if I happen to be pregnant, the chances of me actually keeping the baby are slim to none. I almost wonder if I'd rather be one of those women that doesn't know she's pregnant and then one day goes in to the ER and gives birth. But that wouldn't be right either, because one part that I miss the most (besides holding my own baby in my arms) is experiencing a baby growing inside me. To feel the moving, kicking, even the morning sickness, heartburn, and constant bathroom trips. I want to feel fat (but I think pregnant women are so beautiful), and uncomfortable. I even (I know I'm nuts) want to experience labor and the birth of my own baby. I know, most women who have had babies that might be reading this will tell me I'm nuts. Ok, I admit it, I'm totally and completely crazy. Anyway, I just had to share these thoughts because they were on my mind.

I've been doing good with being content, though. I have my few moments when I see a pregnant woman, or see a woman with a tiny baby, or hear of someone who just got pregnant. But those moments are fewer and farther between than they used to be. I'm able to rejoice with a new mother, instead of avoid her and cry alone. That in itself is major progress. I can even pass by an anniversary date (of the death or what was supposed to be a due date) and I don't always cry myself to sleep, or lock myself in my house. I've come so far in the 5 1/2 years that I've been trying to have a baby. And I give all the credit to my precious Lord, who has never left my side.