The Worth of Your Story

I think we can all agree that the US has an overload of pseudo holidays – National Donut Day, National Guacamole Day, Star Wars Day, etc… It’s a little embarrassing the random things we sometimes choose to celebrate.  There is however a trend of awareness weeks that bring to light causes worthy of our attention. 

This week is National Infertility Awareness Week. Last year when writing Losing Control, I got a front row seat to what the infertility journey looked like for one family.  The prayers, pain, joy, sadness, financial and emotional stress these families endure is an unpredictable roller-coaster ride that doesn’t always end with a baby.  Through the pages of Scripture, we can see thousands of years into the past where women faced the same struggle.  Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, Hannah and Elizabeth each faced the pain of barrenness in a culture where a woman’s worth was defined by her ability to have children.  Hannah’s prayer in I Samuel captures the agony of longing deeply rooted in her soul. 

While I don’t know the pain of infertility, and would never compare my story to the pain of not being able to have children, I have had problems bringing my babies into the world. Just as getting pregnant seems so easy for some women, birthing babies seems so easy for others.  When I was pregnant with my first, I was the stereotypical first-time mom. I had my birth plan written out.  I didn’t want drugs or medical intervention.  (Little did I know that unfortunately I was having a baby in a state where midwives aren’t even allowed to deliver babies.) I’ve had four babies and never used that birth plan.  Due to an emergency c-section and complications with the birth of our second, I was told that it would be risky for me to have any more children, and if I did a c-section at 37 weeks or before would be the only option.  

I didn’t anticipate the pain this would cause.  Fast forward three years.  I was sitting at coffee with other homeschooling moms and was about to share the news that I was pregnant, when another mom shared her recent birth story. I can still recall her carefree tone as she described almost having the baby in the elevator of the hospital.  Clearly she didn’t have problems having babies.  I grabbed my purse and quietly slipped out the front door before the dam of emotions burst.  I felt like my body was broken.  I felt somehow unfit as a woman because having a baby would never be so easy for me.  Childbirth for me would be surgery with a painful recovery, not the beautiful, nature process I had always imagined. 

The sad part of that story is that I walked out of that house that night alone with my pain and avalanche of tears.  I didn’t want to “ruin” a happy moment with my pain. I was afraid that my pain wouldn’t be understood.  I was afraid that I was being a wimp and just needed to be thankful for the baby that I was carrying. I was afraid that no one would care.  

One of the primary lies of the enemy that keeps us in bondage is: I am alone. Satan is masterful at weaving this narrative into the fabric of our being.  If you’ve watched Planet Earth, you know that pack animals like wolves hunt by trying to attack an entire herd at once.  They pick the weakest, most vulnerable member of the herd and isolate it.  Defeat is almost certain for one left alone, surrounded by the enemy. 

We are not meant to live alone.  Social media creates a world in which everyone else’s lives seem perfect, magnifying our loneliness and pain.  We are made for community and relationship.  Even God, who is all-sufficient within Himself, models relationship for us with the Trinity.  Sharing our stories breaks the power of Satan’s argument that we are alone.   Our weakest moments are the times we need to let down our walls and invite others in. We not only receive strength, comfort and encouragement for ourselves, we also breathe strength and encouragement into others, letting them know that they too are not alone. And as believers we get to share how we’ve seen God work in our lives in its darkest moments. 

I often use the Amplified Bible when studying a particular passage.  It describes this scenario perfectly in II Corinthians 1:3-5. 

“Blessed [gratefully praised and adored] be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort, ⁴ who comforts and encourages us in every trouble so that we will be able to comfort and encourage those who are in any kind of trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. ⁵ For just as Christ’s sufferings are ours in abundance [as they overflow to His followers], so also our comfort [our reassurance, our encouragement, our consolation] is abundant through Christ [it is truly more than enough to endure what we must].

Your story is worth telling because it’s yours.  Don’t believe the lie that it’s not worth to be shared because it’s “not as bad as someone else’s.” Pain is unique to each of us.  No matter how ordinary or extraordinary your story may seem, it is worth telling because it is window into your soul, a soul made by the eternal creator of the universe.  That is what brings us worth.  The God of all comfort ensures us that no pain is beyond His reach.

If you are struggling with infertility or something else that feels intensely private, share it. Don’t hide behind the lie that no one cares or your story doesn’t matter.  You matter. Your story matters.   

If you are looking for a place to share your story, I would love to feature it here.  Contact me.