The Easter Sunday church service ought to be the most joyful hour for Christians of the whole year. I love it at our church- the worship is longer and louder. In our jeans-wearing church, everyone is dressed in their cheerful, colorful best. We joyously stream forward to flower the cross, littering the path with petals and leaves. The children add a special excitement as they see the adults’ enthusiasm match theirs (for once) and are allowed to dance in the aisles.

And yet, I find myself most thankful that tears seem much more expected or acceptable on that day. My tears of sorrow and disappointment can blend in with those tears of true worship, rejoicing and repentance that are outpouring around me. I can let it flow and no one would know why.

 

 

Year after year it’s been the same. I feel like I am drowning in disappointment that I do not have daughters to dress up on this day. I know it is a superficial thing, but that has not seemed to make the emotion die down one bit. No girls for which to match up little purses and bows and shoes. No girls to buy matching dresses for or Mommy & Me dresses (which I probably wouldn’t do but it still feels like a loss to not have the choice). No locks to curl and fuss with. No tights to struggle to put on. No layers of skirts to iron. No tug of war with a little princess over how many shades of pink are too many.

Why is it I can feel like I’m missing out on even those elements that seem unpleasant? It’s because the good and the bad still represent the whole. Or hole, rather. I had not pictured life without daughters.

Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE my boys. Would never trade them. Feel like I couldn’t possibly love them more. I adore (and discipline, correct and train, don’t worry) these boys. I cannot imagine my house without their Nerf darts and Legos everywhere. I will never let them feel for one minute that they are somehow not enough. I counsel enough college students whose parents made them feel that way and am determined to avoid that.

I LOVE my boys and yet on this Sunday EVERYWHERE I look mothers are holding their girls as best they can despite their tutus and layers of fluffy tulle. Babies are laughing, not knowing how cute they are or how ridiculously dressed up they are. Girls are twirling in the aisle in their princess skirts. It just seems like such a showcase of sweetness. And I am trying to hold it together and keep my mind on what really matters.

Do I Want to be Well?

 

Though I felt I had approached this issue in prayer a hundred times, this time I realized I didn’t really want to be over it because turning this desire over to God meant He would hand out a consolation prize and I didn’t want to know what that was. Underlying, innocent anger seemed of more worth.

Knowing Easter is soon and in despair, I went to the logical destination of those looking for Hope – the Psalms of Lament, right? Quickly I was reminded that “the words of the Lord are pure words.” (12:6) Words of His I had gotten tired of were being called into question. Is He a Good Father? Does He know how to give good gifts, not a stone when I want bread?

 

“I cried to the Lord and He answered me from His holy hill.” Psalm 3:4

 

In prayer the Lord showed me how tightly I was holding to this idea of missing daughters. So hard it felt almost impossible to fully give over. I mean, it was a good desire, not a wicked one? I saw my dead dream of a bigger family as a shriveled white balloon. On it were a few words I had assigned to myself, mainly MOTHER and TEACHER. The Lord didn’t have much use for this balloon with its narrow list of who I thought I was. What He did want to hand me was multitude of red, yellow and blue balloons. Like what you would picture would make Curious George soar away above the city and into trouble.

 

 

I got the sense the colorful balloons were many blessings He wanted me possess, but in fear I saw them as a thousand strings with the weight of the responsibility of not losing one. Then I pictured His hands on top of mine, where they belonged, helping me hold them. The strings were also tied together so it wasn’t possible to lose these blessings. These 3 colors of balloons I think represented the three themes of ministry in my life. He had put those desires in my heart. He wanted to give me ABUNDANCE if I work with Him and let Him help me hold them.

I then saw the pronouncement of “I should have daughters” others had said as something to be broken. It was meant well and intended as a compliment because I was a sensible, modest girl, but I am meant instead to be only what He says. This statement had turned into a weight, a restriction that had me looking at life as only a half-drawn picture. Leaving me sitting in the waiting room of an Artist who seemed too preoccupied to finish. I had been living waiting, instead of fully living.

Finally, I asked the Lord what words He had to say about me since there weren’t any written on the balloons. I felt like it was the word “WHOLE”, the very word I had been doubting that my life was. Without the weight of anger, injustice, fear or restriction I now need to walk in seeing what my life does have in it as truly good. I will take good opportunities offered to me without worrying about what may happen 9 months later. I need to live for the goodness God has given me, not stubbornly holding onto What ifs. I think He called it “Abundance” anyway? That sounds worth claiming.

Approaching Sunday, even if I know it may be painful, the church on Easter Sunday is just the place I need to be. When I feel like I can’t look to my left or right for fear of setting off my tears again, it is then the only place I can look is forward at the Cross.

 

So my place of brokenness is also my place of healing. And I shouldn’t avoid either one.  

 

Again, I must trust that the Lord knows my heart and has given my husband and I just what we need. That my boys will be warriors and world-changers and it is my job to steer them that way. That my ministry to college women will fulfill the motherly-ness I need to display. That our work renewing minds and restoring the idea of family is where His Abundant blessing is found. That the Lord will redeem any desire as long as I pursue knowing Him and His will. Even if that means no more children, my life could still qualify as Content.

 

What do you need to offer the Lord and see what He has for you to replace it?

His exchange rate sure beats our poor offerings of lies and hurts. 

 

I encourage you that although Easter or special services is an expected time for emotion, what you may be seeing may not be for the reasons you assume. Many are grieving the first holiday without a loved one, a break up, or a disappointment. Singing with empty arms again yet another year.

What can you do? Pray for the Holy Spirit’s comfort for those weeping since you don’t really know why. Pray that God will enable you to be a source of joy to those you speak to. And maybe pray with them that the Lord would reveal any lies that are keeping them in despair. He loves to show His greater truth.

 

 

*We aim to help the family grow relationally with each other and the Lord. Check out our family resources to help celebrate Easter together more meaningfully!