On my way to church yesterday, in the spirit of asking God for my daily bread, I asked Him for just enough to get through the day. My emotions on Mother's Day were even more raw than I expected and so I prayed for just enough strength, just enough grace, to make it through. Two hours later, I felt Him impress upon my heart: I don't do just enough. It seems to me that I serve a God of abundance, a God of more than enough. And I had so much more than enough this weekend.
Todd and I spent my birthday in a hazy, romantic-comedy montage, enjoying each other and the city and lots and lots of food (seriously, all we were missing was a tandem bike ride - it was that perfect.)
I was overwhelmed with calls and cards and gifts and messages from family and friends, which, whatever their intent, made me feel loved and grateful for my "tribe."
My mom and sister arrived on Saturday with the express purpose of just loving me through an emotional weekend. As my mom kept saying, "there is something sacred in the bonds of women, isn't there?"
I was at church for a brief two hours yesterday morning, and in that time, I was showered with birthday presents from sweet friends, hugs and words of reassurance from people who suspected that the day might be hard for me, a great discussion with my sweet college class students, and understanding when I ducked out before the baby dedications began.
More than enough.
I do not want to be defined by what I don't have. When I'm tempted to let the label "infertile woman" seep into my soul and become my identity, I'll find a way to refuse that garbage. It's more true that I am a woman who is deeply loved. I think that identity fits a little better anyway.
Some pictures of the weekend (mostly food, naturally):
(if you click the little text box on the lower left, the captions appear)
(clicking on the pictures makes them larger too)
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