February 25th, Thursday, First Week of Lent

Esther C: 12, 14-16, 23-25, Psalm 138: 1-2ab, 2cde-3, 7c-8, Matthew 7: 7-12

We got a call from the doctor’s office: Our pregnancy test was back.

“Congratulations!” the nurse said. She was elated. I was terrified.

When we started our family six years earlier, pregnancy seemed easy. After Ryan’s birth, we thought we’d get pregnant again right away and fill our three bedrooms with kids. Instead, years of pregnancy losses mounted. It became too much. We embraced adoption instead.

Then the financial realities hit: insurance covered fertility treatments, not adoption. We struggled to make a decision. I opened my Bible one night, searching for direction. It fell open to Matthew 7: “Ask and it will be given to you.” I was instantly frustrated. Hadn’t I been asking for the past six years? Then I paused. Had I? Had I asked with any trust in my heart? Was I truly ready to ask God to put me back on the roller coaster of emotion of pregnancy? Could I give my heart over to hope? We prayed and we listened. We decided to trust God. To ask.

Those early months of pregnancy were nerve-wracking. Repeatedly, I returned to Matthew 7: “If you … know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good things to those who ask him.” Those words always brought peace to my spirit.

On May 2, 2007, Colleen was born. She was born of hope and promise; she is a constant reminder to us of God’s ever-faithful love. But our babies who didn’t make it also remind us of God’s ever-faithful love. “I praise your name for your fidelity and love,” the Psalmist says. “When I cried out, you answered; you strengthened my spirit.”

We can ask, and we can seek, and we can knock; sometimes we’ll get what we ask for and sometimes we won’t. But if we hope, if we trust even in the face of fear, we’ll be able to see the good that God does in our lives, even in those most difficult times. It’s so hard to let go of control; it’s something I still struggle with daily. But I know that in those moments when I can let go, I find God. And his gifts are always good.

Paula St. Louis, married to Tom Shute, mom to Ryan (10) and Colleen (2).