Everyone is having a baby these days it seems. My facebook feed is filled with the most adorable announcements and newborn pictures. I can’t seem to stop hitting the ‘like’ button! Cute little pregnant women walk past me on the street here, and FYI, they have such sweet maternity clothes here!
God has given me great contentment in my singleness, peace at where He has me in so many different ways. I guess this is a very good thing considering I have YET to meet a single guy here in Cambodia with upright intentions, much less one who loves Jesus and who is willing to take me along on the adventures of missionary life.
Almost one year ago, a bunch of missionaries-to-be gathered at training in Colorado, and we learned to grieve. I grieved all the goodbyes about to come, being close to my family, having a clearly defined role, four distinct seasons, and even the wedding dreams of my childhood. God provided much grace in those days of letting go, of opening my hands and my heart for whatever God wanted to place there.
I never thought I would need to grieve having a baby. But it hit me, rather hard today to be honest. Like suddenly I want a family and a baby crib and adorable baby clothes and celebrating all their “firsts” (and I guess I would need a husband too to make all those things possible).
So, I suppose you can grieve once you are already on the field, at least I did. Journal in hand, I had a little time with my Father to hash this all out. “Why, Lord, does the plan for my life look so much different from everyone else’s? Couldn’t I just a have a normal life?”
“And who will go to the little villages along the Thai border, to the people who have yet to hear about Me? Who will go to big cities in Thailand, the islands of Indonesia, the hard places where my Gospel is not welcome?”
“Right, Lord. That’s why I’m here. But couldn’t I do that WITH a husband and a family?”
“Daughter. Instead of looking at the things you feel are lacking, the holes, why not look at what I HAVE given you?”
Sigh. The Lord is always good like that, pointing me towards His grace, His gifts. Perhaps I won’t be a mommy, but I can be an auntie to so many other adorable children (one of my favorite memories was being “Auntie Sarah” while at training last year)! I can be an influence in the life of others who might be lacking a good role model at home. Just as Hannah begged God to provide a son, I can go before God on behalf of the Khmer people and ask for a multitude of sons and daughters of the King of Kings in this place.