I dragged my feet on finishing and setting up Audrey Nole’s bedroom in our basement. When we moved into this house, only the upstairs was livable and so we set up a temporary space for Audrey in the room she affectionately calls “the baby’s room.” It is right next to the master bathroom and always had nursery written on the walls. But as our arms continues to sit empty, it was hard to face the reality of staring at the empty space once I moved Audrey to her rightful room. What would I do with it? Close the door and ignore it? Set it up as Adams office (the final intention for the space whenever we are done needing a nursery) and backtrack if we need it to become a nursery? Let it sit empty, with no purpose?
If I’m being honest, the empty room that is waiting for it’s purpose is a pretty perfect image of how our lives feel in this moment. After George died we had a task: to grieve his death. To mourn all of the should haves and could haves. To set good examples for Audrey as she matured and grieves in her own way. That task was so helpful - even if it wasn’t something we would’ve chosen for ourselves - in many ways it gave purpose to each day. It also helped fill the time and space that should have been occupied by a newborn, and then toddler. And then, if we were crazy enough, we bought a complete fixer upper, uprooted our lives, and started construction. Those early days of demolition were a perfect outlet for the anger and frustration both Adam and I were feeling. Swinging a sledge hammer has powerful healing capabilities. For the last 18 months or so, we have been distracted. Set with another task, to finish this house and make it feel like home. Well, now that we’re rounding out the end of that task, what comes next? Will we be holding a new baby this time next year? Will we be making decisions as a single child household? What should we do in the meantime? Do we plan for a baby and deal with the disappointment if it doesn’t happen? Do we accept that our family is complete and move forward; dealing with the baby thing only if it comes unexpectedly? A lot like that empty room...
I don’t think I can bear to look at it empty. I imagine that a few lost pieces of furniture will find their way in there. Perhaps it will become the place that I meet God most often? A comfy chair, my Bible, and the most beautiful sunset views? In complete honesty, I don’t know anymore what my desire for our future is, but I do know that I will never regret seeking the God who sustains me. I’m beginning to like this idea more and more. Perhaps it’s time to look for that comfy chair. I asked him for peace and contentment with the 3 of us while we waited for a baby. He gave us that. I asked him for days and weeks where the pain of missing George seemed distant. He gave me that. I asked him for a living sibling for Audrey. We are still waiting. While we wait, I will just have to remember to draw closer to him so that my satisfaction is in Him alone; and this season of waiting doesn’t seem so long.
“For I will satisfy the weary soul, and every languishing soul I will replenish.” -Jeremiah 31:25
