It wasn’t long into college before I realized that I naturally mentor. I naturally teach, guide and counsel. Do I do it well? Well, that’s a whole other topic. But I realized quickly that I am a “developer of people,” as one skill set test creatively put it.
So, I always assumed that I would mentor people. First I wanted to be a high school guidance counselor, then I did become a R.A., and that led me to setting my sights on some sort of role in Student Life on a college campus. I tutored a young girl in NE Minneapolis and pondered a non profit path. From there I moved on to academic advising, got involved in youth mentoring through youth group, and poof–
Here I am shepherding women who struggle with infertility.
What?! I didn’t plan this …
I figured I would develop life plans, help choose colleges, provide a listening ear through nasty break ups, help discover skill sets, encourage healthy habits …
Never did I guess my ministry would veer sharply into the heart broken world of infertility. Neither did I guess that my life would veer sharply into this lonely, silent, hazy world. The world of questions, and no answers. Or questions, some answers, but not the right ones. The world of disappointing hope, endless cycles, and painful procedures.
It’s a strange position to be in–especially now that I’m pregnant. I of all people could possibly cause a lot of pain for the women that reach out to me. Me with my rounded belly and excitement glowing in my eyes.
But oh wait–right now there’s no excitement. My eyes are shadowed in pain and filled with tears. My heart is breaking. Why?
Yet another friend of a friend has been pointed in my direction–Praise the Lord for His use of my pain and struggles–and I am suddenly in her shoes, asking those desperate questions, waiting, waiting, waiting and wondering. I am remembering the pain, the fading hope, the countless angry tears.
I didn’t plan this, never would have planned this, never would have thought that a part of my ministry in life would be in the shadowed realm of infertility …
I didn’t plan this, but I’m glad God did.