My Blessed Is Not Your Blessed

Girlfriends, growing up, my favorite movie was “Room For One More” starring Cary Grant.  It’s as old as the hills, but if you haven’t seen it…find it…watch it.  It’ll put your priorities in the right order.  I’ve always loved it because it was about a family who had three children of their own, and while not wealthy by any means, they fostered more children.  Thus, the title…”Room For One More.”

I always envisioned this movie family as my “one-day” family.  I would marry my Cary Grant (which I have), I would fall in love with foster children of my own (which I have), and I would have no less than a ton of biological babies to boot (but that’s where my dream changed).  Let me explain.

In my first blog post, I promised the following: “And as girlfriends share things that no one else has the privilege of knowing about each other, I plan to share my struggles with you.  Maybe in that way I’ll be an encouragement to you…”  But, Girlfriends, in order to do this, I have to let you into my current struggle or maybe we should call it my dream changer.

Just a week ago, Clay and I sat in a pre-op hospital room signing a few ordinary pre-op papers for a procedure that I was about to undergo.  We read and signed the one asking whether or not you have a power of attorney or living will…slightly alarming…but ok…no big deal.  Then we followed with the one that allows the hospital to give you a blood transfusion should something go horribly wrong…even more alarming…but should the doctor slip and hit a vein…well, yeah…pump me full.  Then we came to a rather simple looking form. 

Suddenly tears stung our eyes and Clay’s arms engulfed me as we read the following words: “I acknowledge that this procedure will terminate the ability to conceive, to bear, or to carry any future children.”  Yes.  We knew a hysterectomy meant this.  But, we didn’t expect to see it in black and white.  And I surely didn’t expect to have to fight through the blinding tears to find the small line and to carefully and painstakingly sign my name.

You see, this was not my dream.  It still isn’t.

I never envisioned large tumors attacking my uterus and then my uterus attacking itself.  I never saw two babies, although precious and perfect, as my houseful.  I never thought of anything but what I had dreamed.

And then I made a fatal error in the days that followed.  I began to compare my life to those around me…to other women I knew…to friends on Facebook…to family members…to anyone who had what I had wanted…more babies.  How do I compare to those who are currently pregnant with their little angels or how do I compare to those who have a house brimming full of little hands and feet?  How?  Why God?  What is wrong with me?

And then, as quickly as I made that stupid mistake, a new thought came to me…and I think it was initiated by my loving Heavenly Father…who truly does love me and makes absolutely no mistakes.

My Blessed is not Your Blessed.  

We, as women and girlfriends, constantly compare ourselves to those about us.  We want what our friends have.  We like a lot of what our friends like.  We try to do or have similar things to our friends.  For whatever purpose, we like to be alike.  Take monogrammed clothing, for example.  Five years ago, no one cared about monogrammed clothing.  But, go count the number of shirts, shorts, hats, etc. you have in your closet now with your beautiful initials on them.  We like to do all the cute things our friends do.  But, that’s where it should end…with monograms. 

You see, I may look at a girlfriend and wish I had the number of babies she has and a womb that can carry that many.  But, there are definitely other girlfriends out there that are looking at me and wishing they had the babies I have and the womb I had for a short time.  My Blessed is not Your Blessed.  What I have is what God blessed me with and I’m grateful.  And whatever you have is what God blessed you with and I’m very grateful for you. 

This goes for everything.  Whether it’s babies or houses or clothes or education or height or weight or whatever…Your Blessed is not My Blessed.  Your Blessed is specific to you and meant especially for you for a special purpose.  Don’t underestimate Your Blessed…there is something God intends to do with Your Blessed if you’ll let Him.  And don’t squander Your Blessed by worrying that it’s not like your girlfriend's.  Her Blessed wouldn’t fit the dream that God has just for His little girl…you.

For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.  Isaiah 55:8-9

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a hope and a future.  Jeremiah 29:11

Always know, from one girlfriend to another, you are perfect.  You are beautiful.  You are loved.  You are Blessed, my friend.  Don’t let anyone belittle Your Blessed.  Because, you’re amazing!

Quietly Gentled,

Carrie.