I Wish I Knew...

I wish I knew exactly what I'd done to get to this point in dealing with Gramma's death. What point is that? The point where I do still miss her, very much. And I often times still cry when I think of her. And I'd do almost anything to bring her back, because I still need her, and my little cousin Hannah needs her far more than I. Grampa needs her. My husband needs her. So many people need her... and she's not here.
And yet, with all this, there is the unspeakable peace and joy (although not the sort of joy you might imagine... this is more of a deep-down-know-that-I'm-okay-forever thing than a happy ha-ha-fun thing). I KNOW that she is in heaven. And as I was reminded last night... to depart and be with Christ is by far the best. God didn't say how or when... at any time, under any circumstance, it's by far the best to depart and be with Christ.
I feel that I am most privileged to be part of my church. I know he is "only" a man... but I also know that my Pastor is truly obeying the call of God for his life. I've known pastors that weren't called, and while they do their job very well, that's sort of what it is - a job. As my Pastor has said before, he doesn't "do pastoring" for a living... he simply is a pastor. In that, I'm blessed.
Finally, the thing right now that is hardest about not having Gramma is not really having any outside support regarding fertility treatments. It's a lonely road, and a tough one. Having someone to talk to about it, someone who wasn't personally going through it, someone who was older and wiser, made it so much more bearable. Without that, it does seem overwhelming. I'm not saying I've got no support at all. I do have that. Mostly and firstly from my husband, but also to lesser degree from a few (and yes, only a few) family members, as well as a couple people I do look up to. But the general consensus does seem to be that I'm going against God, or doing something blatantly sinful, or lacking faith by doing this stuff. One of my dear forum friends provided this helpful story...
A man is at home one night when the levee breaks in his town. Water is rising fast, and he cries out to God to save him. A couple minutes later, a man comes by in a boat, and says "Get in... I'll help you." The first man declines, saying his ride is taken care of. As the boat fades from view, the man again cries out to God. A few minutes later, a larger boat with several people in it approaches and implores him to get in. He refuses again, saying that God will save him. He cries out again - desperately this time, as the water is at least 10 feet deep and cold - and implores his God to save him. Less than 30 seconds pass, and a Coast Guard helicopter hovers above him, and lowers a ladder. Refusing once again, the man sadly begins swimming for the distant shore. He drowns, all the while waiting for God to come and save him. He goes to heaven, and asks God, "Lord, I asked you three times to save you. I stood in faith. I believed. And yet I died. Why?" The Lord answers "I sent you two boats and a helicopter... what more did you want???"
What people need to understand is that it takes a lot of faith to undergo the treatments we're doing. Faith that we won't have any side effects. Faith that the treatments will do what they are intended to do. Faith that in spite of a distinct lack of support, we'll be okay. Most of all, faith that our miracle will happen. Because even with the treatments, the procedures, the monitoring, the medications... for us to conceive and carry and give birth to a child will be nothing short of miraculous. I wish I knew a way to make people see that.