Quiet Moments, Loud God

This season has been heavy. There have been glimpses of joy, but honestly, it feels like the lows far outweigh the highs. Walking through infertility has been one of the hardest journeys of my life. I have always dreamed of being a mom, and it’s painful when something you’ve longed for so deeply doesn’t happen the way you want it, when you want it, or how you want it.

Lately, my social media has been filled with pregnancy announcements. And it makes sense, this is the season of life many of my friends are in. But if I’m honest, it stings. It’s hard because I want nothing more than to be celebrating alongside them with the news of my own growing family. Instead, my world feels consumed with timing things just right, blood tests, medications, and cycles of hope that too often end in heartbreak. Month after month, it feels like I’m no closer to the dream of holding a baby in my arms.

This season has grown my relationship with the Lord, but it has also tested it. I’ve spent countless hours in prayer, sometimes asking God to change my heart, sometimes crying out in anger and grief, wondering when it will be my turn. There are days when my prayers feel raw and messy, but I know He hears me. And in the quiet moments, I have seen Him speak the loudest.

God has been teaching me what it means to wait on Him, not passively, but with expectation. Waiting doesn’t always mean silence; sometimes it’s in the stillness that His voice cuts through most clearly. His Word reminds me that He is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18), and that He is working all things together for my good (Romans 8:28). Even when my heart aches, I know His plans are not just good, they are better than anything I could script for myself.

I won’t pretend this journey isn’t heartbreaking. I long to carry a child and start a family. That desire is real, and it’s good. But even in my longing, I am learning that God Himself is my portion. My story isn’t on pause until I become a mom, He is writing it right now. And I believe one day I’ll look back and see how even this season of waiting was filled with His goodness and grace.

So for now, I’ll keep leaning into the quiet moments, trusting that the God who formed life from dust and breathed breath into creation is still at work in me. He is loudest when I am still. And that gives me hope.