When Seasons Are Forever

It’s a powerful gift when someone just lets your PAIN BE WHAT IT IS.

Not explaining it away, or saying, “Well, God must be doing this or that, or this other thing.”

My sister-in-law inspired the poem, Age, because she just sat with me in my pain, didn’t rush me out of it, called it out for the “forever” season it was, and genuinely hated infertility without trying to arm wrestle it into something good.

Infertility wasn’t good. It wasn’t a gift. God made beauty within it and despite it. I was filled with life, hope, and joy + received healing I was desperate for. . . but infertility itself remains a broken thing that is traumatic, sorrowful, and hard.

What a gift to learn I could love God with all of me, fully trust Him and live in hope from Him without ever trying to make infertility the good thing.

I could hate the pain without bitterness, grieve the loss extensively, and still completely love God.

I could experience His kindness without contorting His kindness into the brokenness of infertility.

Anything good I experienced during infertility is because God changed it. He made the childless story different. He gave the barren woman LIFE. He didn’t let infertility stay the story.

And that was all before my son’s miraculous life.


The First Poem in Hope Gives a Eulogy

Here’s a snippet from the first poem in HGaE.

Entitled Wintered-Over for the brittle, achy, numb, wintry emotion of my whole soul when I was struggling the most.

Infertility is a sudden and subtle jolt of pain + grief. It took a lot for me to actually be really honest with myself and God about the state of myself and my belief in His goodness/kindness. God felt mean to me. I said the things I meant without filtering the reality of my pain and my perceptions of God. I learned to trust God with my vulnerability, who I really was without “spiritual speak.”

I lashed out toward God. God stayed. And so did I.

But I had a lot to process.

The poetry in Hope Gives a Eulogy takes you through the cyclical emotions of questioning, grieving & healing.

While I’m purposefully keeping most of the poems offline, Wintered-Over remains the exception which you can find as an instagram reel via @sierravfpoetry.

On a beautiful side note,

Spring is on its way & in some ways, it’s already here.❤ Flowers truly put a richness back into my life when life felt like nothing at all, and my husband brought me these flowers, and took photos especially for me to use for my blog.

Which reminds me of one of the love poems in Hope Gives a Eulogy.

So, the story lives on.❤