“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.” -Ecclesiastes 3:1

I’m in a season of life where everything is happening around me.

People are getting married.
I’ve gotten married. Too young, in a courthouse, with no celebration, no guests, no rings. Three years in, and as more and more friends, siblings, and cousins have over-the-top, movie-star weddings, I keep telling myself we will have a vow renewal at some point.

When? When we are no longer in our prime? When our kids are grown? When my father is too old to walk me down the aisle?

Still, it is these sweet nothings I tell myself in order to get through the day.

A season of longing.

People are getting pregnant.
I’ve gotten pregnant. Too young, unplanned, out of wedlock.

I lost that pregnancy.

I lost myself with it.

But, I learned about a part of me that I didn’t even know existed.

I learned that nothing will satisfy my soul other than embracing my God-given duty to be a mother.

The life society called me to live didn’t matter.

All that mattered is that I died to myself to fully accept and immerse myself in the love of Christ and all that I can offer him.

Desperate for a baby, I prayed and became pregnant three months after my miscarriage, one week before my husband left for his six-month deployment.

I now have a two-year-old. I now know that bringing her up in the Lord is the ultimate way I can serve God.

My husband and I have been trying for a second baby for a long time.

I was sure it would take no time at all. In fact, I was a little cocky about it.

My first two pregnancies happened as easy as sneezing.

My husband is in the military. We planned to get pregnant right before his deployment, like the first time.

I was speechless, taken aback, and couldn’t believe it didn’t happen.

Of course, our closest friends, siblings, and cousins became pregnant in those six months.

My heart sank at every text, phone call, and social media post with the announcement.

He has now been back for five months. Of course, I’ve had time to humble.

Within two months, we became pregnant.

For three days.

That scar is still fresh.

Now, a year after planned, we are still trying to conceive.

Except, my husband is in a phase where he leaves for weeks at a time.

He will leave again next year for another deployment.

I am home, watching others get pregnant and build their families that I’ve wanted for so long.

I am watching other children, younger than my daughter, have the chance to become older siblings.

I am distancing myself from those around me, forbid they ask when we will have another child.

Still, I look up baby names and buy “Big Sister” clothing for my daughter, praying for the day to come.

A season of waiting.

People are buying homes.
I’m renting a home, on a military base, with 100 residents before me.

Friends, siblings, and cousins are fixing up and customizing their own homes.

Refurbishing furniture and décor.

Planting gardens in their backyards.

Hash tagging, “homeowners” every chance they get.

We will always live in someone else’s home.

We will move every year.

We will not have a “forever home.”

Still, I look at beautiful homes as I drive through neighborhoods and practice writing the street names and numbers of those I love most.

A season of searching.

People are landing their dream jobs.
I lost my dream job.

I went to school to become a teacher.

I went through months of interview processes to become a home-school curriculum specialist for a charter school.

A position that would have enabled me to work from home, have flexible hours, and make just as much money as a classroom teacher.

I was rejected at the last minute.

Friends, siblings, and cousins are making more money than I could even dream about.

But, they make sure I hear about it.

A season of bitterness.

Seasons.

In these seasons of longing, of waiting, of searching, and of bitterness, I am fighting hard against the enemy’s hold.

While I am waiting on God’s timing, He is strengthening me and preparing me for what is to come.

He has humbled me and continued to fill me up through the storms.

I am learning the secret to being content in all situations.

“…But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” -Isaiah 40:31.