So Desperate For Life


That’s what they called her. It got to the point that her name appeared to be totally irrelevant. For all they knew her to be was barren.

Every effort was made, every investigation undertaken. It clearly wasn’t her husband’s issue. It was all about her. Her inability.


Perhaps if she just focused on other things and looking after others it would help her cope. Maybe if she didn’t dwell on it year after year, she could move on and perhaps accept the fact that she just wasn’t able to produce. There was no great shame in that.

She would believe that too, if it wasn’t for the looks and the snide comments she knew was taking place around her and behind her back. Sometimes even the sentiment of people to her face only seemed to aggravate the pain of the emptiness inside. She didn’t want that. She didn’t believe she was made for that. She felt she was made for more. She felt she was there to give more.

Much good those feelings did her, though. It appeared as though it was much good her tears would do as well. Much good the pain of disappointment. For all the tears and all the money spent as well as all the grief she had to take, there was nothing to show or it.

The frustration and desperation got to the tipping point where she wailed and moaned in anguish. She cried out. Desperate for life. Desperate for new life within.

Someone must have heard her cry. Someone must have heard and answered. That someone must have been special as well, because it happened. It happened. The signs were there and the confirmation came through. She could hardly believe it was happening. But it was. It was happening to her. She was going the full term. She was experiencing everything. All the changes, all the adjustments and all the preparation was in full flow.

The pain was excruciating for sure and she wasn’t expecting it to feel that bad. But it was worthwhile to hear above her own cry, the cries of someone else. Someone new. Both of them cried for very different reasons. The mother’s tears were first of relief and then tured to a joy she had never experienced before. Tears of hoy at the new life that she now looked at. The new life that came through her and now from her to the world.

This miracle child emerging against all ods. This miracle child proving that someone heard her. This miracle child that would silence her doubters and critics. This miracle child who would make foolish all of those who said that this could never happen.

Someone heard her and she knew. God heard her. God heard her cry. God heard her plea. God heard her.

God gave her new life.

(Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash)

For His Name’s Sake


C. L. J. Dryden

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