What if • day 12

I grew up in a Baptist church. It was a large church with a huge membership. An easy place to feel lost, not very connected. I did the usual Sunday morning with the family, occasional youth group Wednesday night and every once in a while, camp. But nothing was unusual, never a spark. One year after college a friend took me to UBC. A college based church with mostly young members. I soaked it in, feeling odd but def a presence of God. I always felt spiritually fulfilled when leaving. I always wanted to get more involved but never felt the appropriate age. I always felt about 10 years past the general age. I felt a spiritual connect and a membership disconnect. Kyle Lake was the pastor. I never met him, but enjoyed his sermons. He was tragically electrocuted during a baptism. I didn't go for about a year, went back to my church that I had gone to growing up. Still the same stuffy feeling.

When whit and I couldn't get pregnant I was thirsty for spiritual understanding. Something that would soothe the hurt I couldn't fix. Whit worked most Sundays and I would go to church alone. The church I grew up in did not do anything for me. In fact, it made me sad and it made me feel like a failure. It brought me face to face with families having babies and was a complete slap in the face with what I wanted. I knew that this was not the place for me.

I went back to UBC and there I could hide. Sure, I looked older and wasn't surrounded by 10 of my closest friends, but it was a place of peace for me. No reminders of what I wasn't or what I couldn't do/have. The music was loud. Almost loud enough to drown the pain. Some mornings it actually felt like God was taking the pain from the palms of my hands. The new pastor spoke almost- to me. I felt like he had read up on me and preached to me. Very few sermons left me feeling unfulfilled and if they did, the music filled in. God knew where I needed to be.

I started emailing the pastor and asking for prayers. I had never asked anyone other than friends or family to pray for us. I secretly cried in the dark during the worship music. Begging God to either give us a baby or to fill the hurt that I couldn't change. I definitely pulled away from my family but was extremely close to God.

Surgeries and doctor visits, nothing. Fertility drugs, procedures, nothing. There had to be a miracle. Friends promised it would be my turn next time. I was literally on my hands and knees begging him to give us a baby.

What If there was no hope? What if there was no higher power? What if there were no miracles?