I walked into the doctor's office, heart rate elevated as usual. For someone with high blood pressure, nothing raises my blood pressure faster than knowing someone is about to take my blood pressure. This was a different kind of doctor's office though. Normally, as I anxiously wait for my name to be called, I look around and see long faces and furrowed brows, or hear a bad cough. At this doctor's office, I was surrounded by joy in the waiting room. A couple scheduled their next ultrasound after hearing their baby's heartbeat. A young woman, 9 months along, ready to be done with check-ups and meet her baby, joked about her discomfort. Another couple, 7 months along, eagerly asked the young woman, a little further along in her pregnancy journey, for advice. Pictures of babies that had been born to prior patients surrounded me and I couldn't help but smile. This particular waiting room was full of hope--a celebration of life. How nice.
I had not been back to this office since going through IVF about 3 years ago, and as often happens with our deepest hurts, suddenly I felt this one begin to rise to the surface in the form of a lump in my throat. The hurt of not getting to meet our babies on this side of heaven, and not being able to have a baby since was reaching up from the depths and trying to choke the joy and hope of the miracles sitting in the chairs and hanging on the walls around me. Knowing my mind, and my weaknesses, I knew this was trouble. It's a slight left turn from hurt to bitterness, and that was a turn I knew I did not want to make.
I almost got up and left since I was just there for a routine check up. But if I left, I knew I would be adding a layer of bricks to a stronghold God has demolished. I could not turn left toward bitterness and self pity, I had to turn right toward joy and hope. God has been too good; too merciful, and I have been too blessed to go any way but right.
I did the only thing I knew would help. I prayed. I prayed that Jesus would enter that waiting room and sit next to me. I prayed that I'd be able to feel His presence, and I prayed that when they called my name and started asking me question after question about the disappointment from the past in that tiny, sterile office, that He would hold my hand and give me peace. AND HE DID.
I was listening to an Elisabeth Elliot podcast this afternoon, and she reminded me that one of the names of Jesus is Wonderful Counselor. She challenged me with this: Before I go to a friend or human counselor for help with one of life's hard questions, have I spent an hour on my knees at the foot of the cross where all suffering, sin, and sorrow have already been dealt with? I wish I could always say yes, but sadly I have probably spent an hour scrolling on my phone instead. Have I read Psalm 16:7 "I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me." Have I reflected on the words of Psalm 32:8-10 which reads,
who turns to Him."
He surrounded me with His unfailing love in that doctor's office last week. He even answered the questions I left the office with that evening through my husband as he reminded me of the truth God had already revealed to us on that topic. God answered my questions even clearer the next morning as I did my Bible study.
It is so easy to forget that all the wisdom and counsel we need is available to us all day, every day in God's Word. His Word is alive and active and waiting to be called upon for comfort, guidance, and answers to life's most difficult questions. We just have to be willing to make it a priority to look.
As tempting as it is to call my husband, or my mom, or text a friend when a past hurt is triggered and the lump in my throat begins to rise. I need to remember--why would I not remember--to go first to the foot of the cross. It is there that I will always be lovingly welcomed by my Wonderful Counselor, my Mighty God, and my Prince of Peace.
