"I have to believe..."

I've always loved the Avalon song "Dreams I Dream for You". There are so many amazing words of truth in the verses, but the chorus has continued to resonate in my heart for years.

The dreams I dream for you
Are deeper than the ones you're clinging to
More precious than the finest things you knew
Truer than the treasures you pursue
Let your old dreams die like stars that fade from view
And take the cup I offer and drink deeply of
The dreams I dream for you

As I've listened to the words in the past I have tried to recognize that the plans I have for my life are not always as beautiful as those that God has. I have tried to remember that He has a richness that He desires for my life that is not always the treasure I seek. But I do not think I have ever really understood these words. I do not believe that my depth of faith has ever truly run this deep.

Since we lost Hope three months ago, my heart has been grieved with the possibility that God may not have called me to be a mom, to have the experience of carrying a child to full term and raise him or her. The sadness of that truth resonates deep within me. And each time I expressed my sadness, confessed my doubt about my calling to be a mom, I have been reassured with "I have to believe that being a mom is what God wants for you." Many people who love me dearly have told me that they believe God wants me to be a mom. Herb has said he has to believe that God wants us to be parents. But what is it about me that sets me apart from other women who are unable to conceive and carry to full term? I in no way believe that I am more capable or able than others to be a good mom.

For a while now I have been repeating the phrase that I heard so often "I have to believe..." and I began to take it as a demonstration of hope in my life, that I believed that God would make me a mom. But in that version of hope, I struggle for control. I grieve over the many things my body does or the aspects of life circumstances that are out of control and "prevent" me from hoping. So I've been beginning to wonder if I have the wrong kind of hope, if I have been finishing the "I have to believe" phrase with the wrong words.

What if instead of saying, "I have to believe I will be a mom. I have to believe that God wants us to have children," I am supposed to be saying, "I have to believe that the life God has in store for me is good. I have to believe that the dreams He dreams for me are precious and beautiful"? The truth in this second statement reflects a far greater Hope; it reflects a Hope beyond my circumstances. It reflects a Hope that echoes the character of God rather than the characters in my life. But this breed of Hope, this second "I believe" statement, is so much harder and creates a much deeper ache in my heart.

To say the second "I believe" statement requires me to die to my own dreams. It requires me to let go of the visions I have for my life and redefine my visions to align with God's. It goes beyond saying "Bring me anything that brings You glory". It says "The things that You bring me will bring You glory, AND they will be exactly what I need." I think the second "I believe" statement requires a large magnitude of faith; it requires a faith that moves the mountain of my will out of my line of sight. This faith requires complete absence of control and thus complete faith in the things God will bring. And this faith requires that in the midst of the hard things, the excruciating things He brings us, we will be able to say "I know that you work things together for my good."

It is so hard for me to say that I am willing to not be a mom if God has something better in store for me. I believe that being a mom is one of the richest experiences life can offer. But what if that is my dream, my belief? What if God has far richer experiences to offer me, experiences I can't even imagine? Don't I trust Him enough to believe that He wants to give me abundant life? Don't I trust Him enough to define what abundant life looks like without having to add my own addendum?

But the question is can I relinquish my dreams? And how do I do that without taking away the beauty of Hope that comes with the anticipation and joy of trying to conceive and have a child? How do I accept God's dreams fully, in all of their richness, when I don't know what they are? Recently I have been praying that God would show me the good He has in store for me, but more than just show me, enable me to believe those truths. I have been praying that He would align the desires of my heart with the desires of His. If He doesn't want me to be a mom, even just at this point in time, what does He have for me? I know we don't always get to know His plan, after all we "see [y]our yesterdays", He "see[s] tomorrows". But I think it's worth asking, worth asking for glimpses of His good for my life. And I think in the asking we are able to know Him more intimately, more deeply--truly an aspect of the good He has in store.

I still have unanswered pieces of this puzzle. I still lack the wisdom to know what this "I believe" statement looks like when lived out. But I do think that a big aspect of this "I believe" statement is just believing, just believing in the good God has for me regardless of my circumstances, believing in the fullness of life despite hardship. I say "just believing" but I know there is nothing simple about this kind of belief. I must still grieve the death of my dreams, but look forward, with great Hope, to the dreams God has for me. For "he who has lost his life for My sake will find it." God has abundant life for me to discover, it will just come at the cost of my ideas of what abundant life looks like.