This week....

This week - well if you have been blessed with children - this week is a fantastic week for you. You wake up every morning anticipating Sunday morning. When you will dawn your Sunday best, stroll into church with your children in their besties! You will stand when they ask the mother's to stand, and all the children will bring flowers, or sing a song for the mommies....But....

This week, someone is dreading this Sunday. They are dreading another year with no children. They are dreading heading to church, and are considering missing just this one sunday. This week, a birthmom is considering skipping church, because the thought of empty arms and no baby is just too much for her to stomach this year. But these people will probably go to church, hang their head when the moment comes and swallow back the tears that are all too familiar.

If this is you....know our prayers are with you. We have felt the pain of not being mothers or having empty arms. All three of us have been in that pew at one point in our lives. I know we are not there now, but we are familiar with the pain.

Today - we are asking for your thoughts....for healing for these women - the barren, the birth mom, the childless, those simply seeking adoption....e-mail us so we can post your thoughts to them. Or post them as a comment and we will repost them for mother's day....

And here's a little something for all of us as we have been in this place in our lives.

Wait

By Russell Kelfer

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;

Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.

I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .

And the Master so gently said, "Wait."
"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.

"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!

Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?

By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.

"My future and all to which I relate

Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?

I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,

Or even a 'no' to which I can resign.

"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,

We need but to ask, and we shall receive.

And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:

I'm weary of asking! I need a reply."

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,

As my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,

And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?"

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .

and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.

I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.

I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.

"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.

You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.

You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.

You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.

"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;

You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.

You'd not know the joy of resting in Me

When darkness and silence are all you can see.

"You'd never experience the fullness of love

When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.

You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,

But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

"The glow of my comfort late into the night,

The faith that I give when you walk without sight.

The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask

From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,

What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.

Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,

But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you.

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see

That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.

And though oft My answers seem terribly late,

My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."