Femara cycle #2 results

Last night my family went to our church's Ash Wednesday service. Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent. At the close of the service, the pastors marked our foreheads with ash in the sign of a cross. "Remember from dust you came and to dust you will return, " they repeated, marking the faces of infants and elderly alike.

Biblically, the ashes symbolize a state of two things: grief and repentance.  I certainly feel the weight of grief, as John and I have completed another failed cycle of trying to conceive. Once again the pregnancy test was negative. Once again our hearts break. Once again we call out to God and ask him why he refuses to bless us with another child. I grieve in ashes.

In my grief, I also repent. As I walk the road of infertility, the line between the good and godly desire for another child gets blurred- or marred- with anger and jealousy and a proud sense of I know better than you God. I repent in ashes.

Of all the scripture passages read in our sanctuary last night, my heart latched tightly on to this one from Psalm 51:

My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;   

 a broken and contrite heart    

you, God, will not despise.

As I prepare my heart to try again, I bring it, broken, as a sacrifice before the LORD. Even as I am broken and covered in ashes from another failed cycle, I come with humble thanks because I know he does not despise me in my grief and sin. Instead, he cleanses me with redemption.

This next cycle- another round with Femara- will take up the majority of lent. With an extra measure of longing this year, I walk through lent with sadness and approach the cross in my great need for joy and gladness.

Yesterday, ashes. Today as I rise, I fix my eyes forward on Easter. I join again with the psalmist and say,

Let me hear joy and gladness;

let the bones you have crushed rejoice. 

Let the bones you have crushed rejoice. 

xo