Have you ever been afraid to hope? It’s such an odd place to be. Words cannot express the array of conflicting emotions you experience as you are caught somewhere in between the “what ifs’ and the probably nots” that are bouncing around your churning mind.
At church this morning, the minister was touching upon the parable of the sower. And I couldn’t help thinking of my baby hopes as the seeds thrown by the way side. I keep throwing out these little seeds of hope and it seems all in vain. They are gobbled up by birds, scorched by the sun, choked away by thorns. I want to have faith, want to keep trying with the belief that one day it will all be worth it. The belief that one day, one of those tiny seeds will take root and will grow into something-someone- beautiful and mine, a baby who is a part of both myself and my husband, a baby who can make us our own little family.
I want to keep on hoping. But I am running out of seeds.