The last few months have been challenging to say the least.
We’ve met a pandemic that has forced us to adapt with numerous changes and a whole new normal. March 13th was the last day I taught in my classroom for this academic year. I left my high school with a reasonable expectation to return and instead have been thrown into the deep end of distance learning. My home has morphed into my on-the-clock space, my off-the-clock space, and everything else in between.
We’ve seen violence repeatedly perpetuated on people of color in communities all over the country. My heart aches for the losses and the injuries as the list continues to grow. My mind reels as I wonder when will we as a country be brave enough to do the work that is required to truly deal with the biases and racism that is woven into the fabric of our country.
I can safely say that I am not alone in navigating these unfamiliar waters. All of us are doing our best to maintain our households and our sanity. On top of this, many of us have come to a hard stop on our infertility journeys. Decision makers concluded that fertility treatments were not critical and therefore subject to cancellations and postponements. As a couple who was told medical treatments were our best option to grow our family, my heart goes out to those whose options have been affected by these decisions. We also know that couples looking to adopt may also be affected with a delay in critical preparations if they are not already matched and awaiting delivery of their little miracle. Miscarriage and infant loss are traumatic at any time. However, families are facing these devastating losses with limited support as we observe protective measures in hospitals and social distancing everywhere else.
These changes have been impactful and have threatened our peace. When fear attacks us, we often cower back into a comfort corner and close our mouths. It’s only natural to seek comfort and I have been there more than once. As the number of losses started to accumulate among my family and friends, I began to shutdown and look for comfort. However, infertility reminded me of something it taught me. I can do more than just mourn and hope to be comfortable while the battle rages.
There is power in the words I speak. This is the reason I volunteered for the second year for RESOVLE’s Advocacy Day 2020. Yes, I missed traveling to Washington, D.C. to work the Hill as I did last year. But, I could not miss the chance to lift my voice to the decision makers who vote on legislation that benefits the infertility community. I joined four other delegates from Michigan and I plan on making this an annual event. I’m told that members of Congress hear from lobbyists all the time. It is hearing our personal experiences that is the most touching and persuasive.
This is the reason I volunteered to serve as the Equity Team Lead for my school in Detroit. I elected to participate in the conversation around topics such as the power structure in education and racial and gender inequalities. I have enjoyed working with this team of educators unpacking these heavy topics. Together, we are challenging the thoughts that dictate our behavior in our schools and classrooms everyday.
We must talk to those who need our perspective and hope; including our own hearts. Proverbs 18:21 NLT says, the tongue can bring death or life; those who love to talk will reap the consequences. This translation bursts into my comfort corner, kneels down to me, and yells loudly in my ear. LIFT YOUR VOICE! I speak up when the benefits are medical coverage for all infertility treatments and refundable adoption tax credits. I speak up when the text book examples don’t reflect the diversity of the students who are reading it. Yet it’s just as important to speak up for my own peace of mind. While I am consumed with the thoughts of what may happen to me, the Word of God is reminding me that I have been empowered to sow seeds of faith that will work for me.
When I lift my voice in advocacy, I feel strong and empowered. But something different happens when I speak the Word of God; the more I recite it the more I want to recite it. Speaking God’s Word out of my own mouth ignites my weary heart in a unique way. It inspires me to look beyond the comfort corner and begin to rise in hope.
While you face your uncertainties, lift your voice. While you mourn your losses, speak life. While you endure the challenges you face, declare what God said. I encourage you to resist the urge to close your mouth. Grab a hold of one of the promises of the Father, and lift your voice. Recite it to another heart that is hurting and offer its peace. Tell your own heart, that while all of this is hard, there is hope.
HOPE-Filled Thought: And so, Lord, where do I put my hope? My only hope is in you. Psalm 39:7 NLT
Prayer: Thank you, Lord, for your unfailing love and care for me. I trust you beyond what I know or what I see in this season. Increase my faith that I may hold onto your promises. Empower me to speak your Word until what I see reflects what you have said. I receive your strength with joy. And it is so. Amen.
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