Silver Linings

Earlier this week, Jeramie and I celebrated our seventh wedding anniversary.

Historically, the day of our anniversary hasn't always been the best.  The first and fifth stand out as pretty dang good, and hindsight tells me that I was unknowingly pregnant with Ethan on our second, but the rest have been a few steps down from "awesome".

But, back to our seventh...

On Monday morning, my phone rang around 6:45.  It was Jeramie on the other line.

"Happy anniversary!", he says. "I've got some bad news."

Apparently, he'd left early for work so that he could pick-up breakfast for me.  (I know, right?)  He was on his way back to the house when his car died.  Like, stopped moving forward.  He was able to get it out of the road, and a tow truck showed up a little while later.  The mechanic's best guess, based on the way it had been driving and the sounds it had been making, is that it essentially died of old age.  It was a fourteen year old car, which had served us well over the past several years, but in no way was it worthy of receiving a new engine. So, we cleaned it out, said our goodbyes, and started making calls to local junk yards.

Now, this news came on the heels of more bad news we'd received a couple days prior; it appears that our journey with infertility is going to take longer than expected.  We learned on Saturday morning that my body had not responded to fairly aggressive "entry-level" treatment, and our next step is slightly more invasive and considerably more expensive.

Heap unexpected car troubles, on top of wanting and not being able to have a baby - and the financial implications of both of those things - and you've got the makings of a pretty fantastic anniversary, right?

You know what? It was.  On top of the car issues and the fertility issues, Jeramie and I had also just been led out of a rough couple weeks of marriage.  Grace and forgiveness were fresh in our hearts and our trust in the Lord's guidance was certain.  No matter what, we were going to be okay.

Photo courtesy of Amaree Davis

Yes, it was difficult hearing that my body doesn't work like it should - and, no, we still don't know where money for a car will come from - but we're choosing to see the good in each other and our crappy situations, and striving to trust God and give Him the glory for it all.  I won't pretend that it's easy, or that I don't have moments of doubt, but above all, I know that He cares for us - for our marriage, for our family, for our finances, for our hearts.  He is our hope and our strength.

That hope, and the belief that God is in the midst of working this out for good, has given way to peace and understanding this week - and even a few silver linings.  For starters...

As I was getting ready Monday afternoon, it occurred to me that I never put gas in Jeramie's car the day before like I was supposed to.  From upstairs, I called down to him,  

"Hey, babe? Did you fill up your tank this morning?!"

He paused for a moment, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "Nope."  Procrastination for the win.

And on a more serious note...

Because we received bad news on Saturday morning, Jeramie decided to stay in Raleigh with his sad wife (that's me!) instead of driving to Virginia to help his brother move.  We fully believe that the Lord was leading him through that decision, as his car would have likely stopped on a busy highway instead of an early-morning deserted road.  Protection for the win.

And those expensive infertility treatments? Based on conversations with junk and salvage yards, it appears that people will actually give money for a car that doesn't run.  The estimates that we've received should cover the cost of these new drugs, and possibly even a little extra.  Provision for the win.

During our small group on Monday night, someone made the point that it's not just "a God thing" when moments work out in our favor.  Everything is a God thing and none of this catches Him off guard.  His love and goodness never fail, even when engines and infertility treatments do.  He is our silver lining - great is His faithfulness!

He is El Roi, the God who sees, and I couldn't be more comforted by his presence.