I’ve hesitated for months to share an earnest praise and testimony of God’s goodness in my life for fear of dismissing that He has not answered the same prayer the same way for everyone.

Like most every believer, I’ve prayed for God to restore some things that were broken, to fill some heartfelt longings, and to give me a glimpse about what to expect. A sign, a wonder, anything. I’ve prayed with the belief that God cared sincerely about my life, my hurts, and my hopes. I didn’t picture Him as a finite man with a full plate and more important things to do, but as a loving and infinite Heavenly Father, who would make time for the longings of His children.

And like most of us, I have not have not had every prayer answered in the way I wanted. In fact, many times I have been reminded that sometimes the thing we want so desperately will not come to pass.

I leaned into teachings for broken hearts, hard times, suffering. I believe in a sovereign God. One whose heart is broken when our own hearts hurt, who died and came to redeem those hurts, but who also will, in wisdom beyond my own, allow a few of those hurts for our good and His glory.

I came to believe my life would be to be spent unloved, mostly alone, and full of sorrow. I hoped it was for a greater purpose. I grew to feel most comfortable bracing myself for bad news, and somewhere along the way, I stopped remembering to ask God for good gifts. I grew more and more sorrowful and lonely and didn’t believe there would be sincere joy.

But then, the Lord started answering those very prayers in different ways than I ever expected.

I’d asked the Lord for a loving marriage. And, friends. He did give me a loving marriage, this time with a kindred spirit who’d had some heartache, too, and who felt like my dearest friend. And over time, I came to believe he wasn’t going anywhere. The Lord began to teach me new lessons through love that stays.

I’d asked the Lord for a child. I had even joked I wished I could begin with a five year old and just skip that whole baby part. And lo and behold, He brought me my precious stepson, five years old and as lovable as they come. He was full of humor, spirit, creativity and energy. And so many times I have laughed feeling he could have been my very own from the start. That he is my dear kindred spirit in innumerable ways.

I’d dreamed of a sweet little home to love, and He brought me to my boys in Kentucky, and he started to knit us all together. We began to build bonds of history and love, and we began to restore the parts of our 1940s home that had been lost to time.

I had forgotten I could relax into hope. I’d forgotten I could ask The Lord for gifts. And suddenly, he answered my deepest hopes in big ways.

I’ve tried to retrain my body and mind to stop bracing for the bad news, to relax into good gifts, to grow into these new roles and new people.

But there was one prayer I was too scared to hope for. One I’d held for too long, held too close, and thought might be lost to me forever.

I dreamt of being someone’s mother. Of a precious baby of my very own.

For many years, I felt an earnest longing that turned into an empty grief in the pit of my stomach with a life all its own. And I prayed for the right time. And I got news about my health so that I prayed that it would be possible. And then I found myself newly alone in my thirties, and I laid down my grief and I was certain it would not happen.

And friends, the next part of my story is the part that I have hesitated to share. Because I still know that this prayer is not answered for every woman with a longing heart for more reasons than I can count. And I love many of them dearly and I can try my best to imagine their hearts and hurts as I share.

But the next part is praise I don’t want to withhold, because I’m convinced that if I share the ways God was good to me in seasons of grief and hurt, I ought to bear testimony to His benevolence, too.

We asked the Lord for a child. We asked that He grant us favor. That he protect us and our little one from harm. We asked that if there was to be disappointment and loss in store, that He would teach us to trust Him.

We prayed for a sweet little baby of our very own, and the Lord gave her to us.

Immediately.

We prayed for our little one in August and learned we had a sweet, tiny new life to love in September.

Each day and each week, I have braced myself for the bad news. I’ve prepared to hear something is wrong. And each week, we reach a new milestone and our joy continues. And each ultrasound is sweeter. And each lab result is OK.

My wonderful therapist reminded me that by guarding my heart against joy at this time, I can’t prevent a bit of grief if that day comes. That I’d only rob myself of the joy of this hopeful, precious moment.

So today, I’m trying to walk in faith by sharing my testimony that the Lord answered a prayer I thought was too scary to pray.

Today, I’m believing we have hope that we have a every reason to hope. That she will be OK. That she will snuggle up on our chests and be held in love. That she will grow to be strong, kind, brave, lovely, wild, and gracious. That only a matter of time and faith in Him separates us from meeting our precious girl.

For you reading with grief and unanswered prayers, I hope you do not reach the end of this post with the weight of bitter loss, but with the faith that we have a good and loving God who answers prayers differently and better than we ever could hope. And who cares for our grief in the meantime better than we could understand.

For you who are waiting for Him after so many dashed dreams, I pray you know what courage it takes to plant a flag in your heart and declare it a space for hope to take root.

For my little girl, if you read this someday, I pray you have full confidence that just you being here is a miracle to your mama who already loved you from before you were born.

L