I stared at this blank post, wanting to write. I opened my laptop ready to type some words, only to find the capacity to create and write was wiped clean all over again. So, I sat there and prayed, “God, I want to write.”
I’ve been experiencing creative paralysis the last few months. It’s mostly to do with the intense pregnancy sickness that has often drained me of energy, ability, and the capacity to do anything above very basic tasks. Enduring chronic pain for many years makes adapting to this much easier, but it also hasn’t been a walk in the park.
I’m so thankful for a healthy pregnancy. There aren’t adequate words to describe the gratitude. But without complaining, I will be honest. Sugar coating did no one any good. And truth be told, it’s been increasingly difficult to set aside creative endeavors and regular creative tasks (such as making dinner or sitting down to plan my week/month!).
Before this baby, I knew it was my sole season for writing. And I had a long season of creating, because I had a long season of waiting for this little one! I learned new hobbies, discovered new past-times that became passions, published my book, began another one, started a podcast, did an audio novelette on my podcast, took in the quiet and knew one day I’d miss that lovely quiet!
So even though there was extreme, prolonged pain in waiting for a child, I grew to love the life around me. I soaked it in and began to savor life itself. . .however it looked. I embraced the freedom waiting for me in the desert. Thanks be to God!
Along the way, came our baby. Not because I had arrived! I was still in the ups and downs of what it means to trust, surrender, wait, rejoice, and rest in God. And NEWSFLASH I’m still in the ups and downs of all those things today.
Funny how that works.
I’ve been invited into a miracle, and it is really beautiful. I’m keeping track of the days and jotting down the wonder of an ultrasound where I see our baby jumping and dancing. I pray my baby will have fun in the womb, and if our 11 week ultrasound is any indication, I believe God has answered that prayer many times over already! I’ve smiled and laughed while watching my little one. These are stunning days, indeed.
But true worship starts with honesty. It starts with a poured-out heart. And that is why, without pause, I can say brokenly, “God, I want to write!” That is why I can give Him my whole heart bent with frustration and filled with joy and not feel shame in the exposure.
I can hand God all the pieces of my heart and know He will heal or forgive or transform and make new every splintery shard. Freedom begins when I offer God the entirety of myself without any pretty bows or strings.
I don’t have to feel rosy about hard things, I just have to surrender myself to God and trust Him in all things. Here I have the courage to wait for the time I’m able to truly create again while also cradling the joy I experience at the wonder and beauty that lies in the heart of a baby I’ve prayed years for.
I loved Psalm 103:12-14 while waiting for a child, and I love it now. . .”As the Father shows compassion to His children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For He knows our frame; he remembers we are dust.” God is keenly aware of my humanity and so perceptive of my needs and emotions, yet even with this knowledge, He turns toward me in compassion.
I respond to Him with love.
And that love looks like unashamed honesty and a poured-out heart. It looks like exposing my soul with every good and hard thing, every magnificent moment or feeling of pain, every tear of sadness or shout of thanksgiving. It simply looks like giving my all.
With God, there is so much victory and freedom for us in all seasons, in all things, in all ways. His steadfast love is better than life, and so we can move forward unshackled by our humanity, unafraid to share our feelings, hands raised in trust, hearts open to change, souls ready to rest.
Here we are, God!
Comfort us. Transform us.
Sierra V. Fedorko 