I battle the notion that if, for some reason, I never have children or do so much, much later in life, I will be a failure. I know I won't be in the eyes of those who love me, but it's hard to take my own head off this chopping block of expectations.
I thought that making decisions about children would be simple, straightforward. What once seemed like a logical progression--want kids, have kids, raise kids--is in reality a bit convoluted. There are factors that few women think about from the time they're "feeding" baby dolls with blue plastic spoons to the time they're standing at the altar, newly cognizant of marital implications.
I trust God's timing, and well that I do. I've tried to control my life enough to know that it's not prudent to get stuck on what I want when it want it. I know God is good. I am glad that I can say that with confidence--a few months ago, I couldn't have, because it didn't feel true.
Oh, there you have it. The issue is still feelings. I balk at my myself when I read about or discuss babies, see moms pushing strollers around the mall or watch toddlers run around the sanctuary showing off their cool squeaky shoes because I feel the desire for motherhood bubble up inside me. It's been disconcerting, lately.
I wish there were an on-off switch for emotions. I would flip the motherhood switch off for a time.
I fear. I fear my own incompetence as much as I fear my discontent.
I cannot just push those feelings aside and expect them to go away. I don't know what to do with them except to acknowledge them and say, "No matter what comes, Lord, your plan is good, and you are worthy of all our trust. You are not a God of fear or discontent, and in this, like all other areas of my life, you will guide me and do your work in me, growing me to be ever more like your Son."