“Your faith isn’t in the outcome you want, but is in the faithfulness of God.” -Pastor Craig Groeschel-

Outcomes aren’t always what we hope them to be are they? I heard the above quote this morning on a podcast and it reminds me that disappointing outcomes doesn’t mean that God isn’t faithful. Today our outcome wasn’t what we hoped. I read a paragraph in a book that said this – and it explains my reaction so perfectly. It said “…So now I just assume it won’t work and that if it does work, I’ll lose it anyway. This is meant to protect me, although it doesn’t, because somehow the hope sneakily finds its way in. I’m never aware of the hope until it’s gone, whooshed away like a rug pulled from under my feet, each time I hear another ‘I’m sorry.'” 

Whoosh.

I try to stay guarded, finding that delicate balance of Hope and practicality. Perhaps I am jinxing myself, doubting when I am supposed to be trusting. I’d like to believe God doesn’t work like that though. He knows the delicate fears of my heart, the terror of getting my hopes up. If I am being really honest, the deepest, smallest, most intimate part of my brain isn’t scared that He can’t do this (I am certain that He can), but it’s that He won’t.

Whenever those words of fear start to build “what if He won’t, what if He won’t, what if He won’t….”, running like a train going full speed in my brain, I have to stop. Sometimes screaming at my brain – STOP! The words screeching like the brakes on a metal track. Because those are the words of the devil, wanting to chip away at the Hope we have in Him, wanting to drain the reminders of His faithfulness, wanting to absorb the trust I have stocked up. Again, if I am being honest, I was more prepared for this outcome than if it were a positive result. My body and brain move on auto-pilot now. Negative. Bleeding. Cramps. Ouch. Ultrasound. Pills. Lather, rinse, repeat.

So today I am thankful for ibuprofen, a (brief) reunion with americanos, heating packs, and the loving encouragement and hope-filled words of friends still rooting for us. A new cycle of letrozole starts tomorrow. Let’s do this again. I’ve got it in me. The fight is still there, the desire is still there and more importantly, the calling is still there. So we keep marching. And waiting. 1 Samuel 14:6 “…Perhaps the Lord will act in our behalf. Nothing can hinder the Lord…” Lord, we are asking you, again, to act on our behalf. Chance are You are doing just that and we can’t see it. Help my eyes to see what’s beyond me, not what’s in front of me. 

Onwards.