Worth It.

Never forget, you were and are always worth it. 

There has been no greater joy in my life than to parent my children. It's not over by a long shot, but based on everything that's been happening in our lives, I just want it on record. I'd do it all over again exactly the same way. I'd endure every pain to mother my babies.

When we were going through a very difficult battle with infertility that spanned almost four years, a wise man and mentor said something that I've never forgotten.

His college-aged daughter drowned in an accident while on a mission trip. She was doing what the Lord called her to do, and she died in the process. This has to be one of the most difficult tests in life--where is your faith when God responds in an unexpected way?

Nothing can separate you from my love. Nothing.

So, we were in the funeral line for this remarkable young lady who had been in our youth group when Steve was youth pastor of this church. Steve and I, the same people who were still in active treatment to get pregnant, were waiting to hug the family.

Our infertility was like a third person in our marriage. We'd paid out countless amounts of money, endured horrifyingly intimate tests, blood work, drove to and fro having tests run, injected all manner of medication into my body, had sex on a schedule (which will kill a marriage faster than maybe anything), and were in the middle of that hard journey. I was discouraged and afraid and felt abandoned by God.

There is nothing I won't endure on your
behalf or do to help you be successful. 

In the funeral greeting line, this grieving man, his face covered in sores from where he had been crying night and day, took both of my hands into his and said, "Charlotte, you may need to consider that not having children is the path for your life. It's so hard having children. It's so hard. There is so much pain associated with children." And he sobbed.

I smiled at him, squeezing his hands in mine and replied, "But there's only one real question here--Knowing every single thing that you know right now--knowing that your daughter dies, would you go back and undo it? Would you skip having the joy of her life in yours to avoid the pain of this present loss?"

He gripped my hands almost painfully and said, "Never. I'd do it all again to have the time with my daughter."

You are the greatest joy of my life.

"Then you know why I must go forward. It's going to all be worth it."

 I thank God for you and that I get to be your Mother Bear. 

And I stand by that answer.

Knowing that they are going to cause me pain.

Knowing that they are going to fail and fall and reap and sow.

Knowing that they are going to be hurt and possibly die or abandon me.

Knowing that they are fallible and cruel and selfish and demanding and intolerable sometimes.

Knowing all of that, I'd do it exactly the same way all over again.

And I'll say this--it's all worth it.

Every second.

To love and be loved--that is the meaning of life.