Impatience, Isaac, and Ishmael...

I'm sitting here at this desk, and my digital picture frame is on the verge of assaulting me. All of the pictures from Hannah that I have programmed in to it are going by one at a time, in a row, and it's almost more than I can bear today. That tiny little girl was once mine, and I remember everything about her.
You know, the smell of the hand sanitizer in any BJC hospital makes me think of her...There are other smells, too, that take me back to those last days, but I choose to block them out. Even now, it's too much, and I think it always will be.
I'm anxious to try again.
I'm anxious to go on that crazy journey of motherhood one more time, to give it another shot. I loved being pregnant, loved everything about it (well, okay, I hated my enormous cankles). I loved the feelings, the kicks, the hiccups--I loved it all, and I've never felt as fulfilled as I did the day they placed that baby girl in my arms. I look at these pictures and it blows my mind...
On 11/12/2006, we brought her home from the hospital, to start our new lives together. That day was the happiest day of my life...the joy, the panic, the amazement of what we were about to do, was overwhelming. I remember loading us all up into my Tempo (!) and the drive back to our house; my heart was flooded.
I'm anxious to try again.
It is a hard thing, to wait on the Lord for the thing you want more than any other. How Sarah must have felt, to know that God called her to carry a child...to know her calling in this world...and to not have it happen in her own timing...how she must have felt, to see her husband rush into things, and wind up with Ishmael. Poor Ishmael--he must have known, from the second Isaac was born, that he was the product of a man who rushed God's will. The bitterness he must have harbored had to be overwhelming, and to me, it's no wonder he hated Isaac from the beginning (and to this day).
I want to rush, to dive in headlong, because I know there is a calling on my life to be a mother. I want to tell God that my time is now. I want to do this my way...I want...Hey, that sounds like a pretty dumb idea!
Waiting patiently on the Lord, for Him to make things happen in His time, takes a lot of faith, and some days, I don't know if I can do it. The hope is so strong, that at least once a month I want to cry when my body reminds me that nope, this is not my time, for now.
I wish God would hurry up.
But...
I know He is faithful, and I know more than anything, that His will is worth my wait.
I will wait.
I will pray.
And I will rest in knowing that He has not forgotten me.
I will be like Hannah in the Bible, who prayed so hard that people thought she was drunk...go ahead, think what you will. I will be that crazy lady who fights the crowd to get to the hem of Jesus' garment. I know He sees me, and I know He hears my heart's cry...I know He doesn't give us empty heart's desires.
His will means more to me than life itself, so I will wait.
I want my Isaac...to see the true fulfillment of His promise in my life, His way, in His time, because when I do, and when I'm finally pregnant (or when we've adopted, as that's a possibility), I will not have fear, because I'll know He's ordained it.
My impatience is practically a noose, and it's got to break.
I'm writing this, to encourage my spirit, since I'm feeling frustrated at this point. I need the reminder of my place in this world, and of His will for eternity. What are my priorities? Do I want Him more than I want a child? Ouch--that's one for thought, as it's easy to cross that line.
He is faithful as the Son, and I have that engraved on my heart. His timing is the only timing, and it's what I'm waiting for...and it's worth every tear (if He's keeping those in a bottle, good grief). I will press on.