Treasuring and Pondering

"But Mary treasured up all these things pondering them in her heart." Luke 2:19

The word ponder in this verse means to "weigh heavy". I don't think that it is any coincidence that I read this verse in my devotional today, the day I was to become a mother. I have been treasuring up precious moments for the last 10 months, the last 5 months, the last week, taking notice of the little glimpses of my God. I have been treasuring up pieces of God's word (Psalm 119:11) and treasuring up pieces of my journey, relics of what was lost. And today I am left to ponder...

I have spent much of my week and much of today pondering what my life would have been like in these moments if Hope were still here. I "weighed heavy" the dreams lost of: putting the final touches on the baby room, packing a bag for the hospital, sleeping uncomfortably under the weight of my huge belly, holding my precious Hope in my arms, breastfeeding her for the first time, holding her close to my heart as I sang her first lullaby. These lost dreams have weighed heavy on me; they have caused my body to ache and my heart to break; they have caused tears and unbearable sobs. There is no lightness to the path I've walked these last few days. I have certainly had no loss at pondering these things...

I have spent much time pondering my dreams, pondering what it is I hope for in this life and what I hope to achieve. I have weighed this heavy as well as I even struggle to articulate what my hopes are--so many of my dreams are centered around being a mom, having a family, caring for others. Without these ambitions I begin to feel lost. And so I ponder who I am...

I weigh heavy who I am called to be right now if not a mom. A teacher, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend. I don't feel particularly successful at any of these roles right now. But the biggest identity that weighs heavy on my heart, the me I feel most centered around is daughter of God.

Today specifically as I prayed, God weighed heavy on my heart my place in His arms, on His lap, in His kingdom. He is just, He is faithful, He is compassionate, and He is mine. Of all of my failures and brokenness, I can still come sit at His feet and praise Him. He is my portion, and if nothing else I am His prize.

Which leads me to my greatest pondering of this last week. My counselor said last Saturday "I want you to recognize that life would not be any better right now if Hope were coming this week." I initially told him he was wrong. He said that if Hope coming was God's plan, it would have been good, but God purposed her not to arrive this week and since it is part of His plan, this is also good. I still said he was wrong, and yet his words have nagged at me all week. It certainly feels like life would be better if Hope were coming to join us today--the gift of my little one in my arms seems like the best that life has to offer. But I've been pondering this earthly wisdom of mine ever since.

This idea of "better" has been weighing heavy on my heart. What do I consider better or best for my life? I certainly would have chosen to have Hope join our family this week, no doubt in my mind. But God chose differently. I most definitely would not have selected to walk the road I have been walking the last 5 months and yet God called me to this road.

I pondered these things all week and then my devotional, Hope for Everyday, challenged the very core of my pondering this afternoon: "Are you willing to admit that your understanding is limited and say to God even now, 'You are right'? Will you trust that God will always do what is right with you and your life and those you love?" (Guthrie). I think I have to trust that this road is right, that there is no other road I am to be on. I think I have to trust that this road is no better than the road that would have lead Hope to my arms today. But I think the key word is trust, believing that this is an equally good road.

I think I can ponder all I want and I do think the pondering can lead me to trust God's orchestration in my life. But I am also going to continue to do what Mary first did, I am going to "treasure". I think treasuring involves living and grieving in these moments. I think treasuring involves missing my daughter and what might have been this week. I think treasuring means sitting in my rocking chair crying over my empty arms tonight. Because it is in the treasuring, in the emotional journey, that I can then ponder and trust. Very little trust is required if the road is easy and the charge light. How can we "weigh heavy" those things that don't weigh heavily? We absolutely still can, but I don't think we treasure or ponder or trust in the same way.

So today I will treasure both what is lost and what is found. Today as I miss my little girl so much I can't breathe I will trust in the God who is guiding my path. And I will ponder the "better" path on this day, April 7th, 2010, a day full of nothing I could have planned.