Psalm 102: Response
A young woman learning that she is unable to have children
Hear my prayer, O Lord;
let my cry come to you!
2 Do not hide your face from me
in the day of my distress!
Incline your ear to me;
answer me speedily in the day when I call!
Were you there in that room with me, God? The doctor sat me down on that cold recliner with the tissue paper, and without meeting my eyes, told me the news I already half knew. “I’m very sorry, but in your condition you will be unable to become pregnant in the future”. Don’t hide your face from me, God!! You’ve given me questions that need answers and I will scream at heaven until my voice and heart are broken. You know why this is happening. You know why I was born this way. You said you knew my name before I was even formed in my mother’s womb, so tell me why you made me flawed and incomplete!
Even before the doctor told me, I already knew. Perhaps God was preparing my heart to be broken and then mended.
7 I lie awake;
I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop.
8 All the day my enemies taunt me;
those who deride me use my name for a curse.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve lain here with my chest heaving and my cheeks drenched. No one, not my mother nor my friends can help me. I have to keep this news inside of me, contained like a disease because if it got out, would anyone know what to say? Could anyone provide any comfort? I never realized how often people throw around the idea of not having children. Even my friends, jokingly swearing off pregnancy, become enemies in my eyes. When I think about the future that I imagined, my heart shrinks and I realize I’m alone.
Lying in my bed, thinking about why I had been made this way was the worst moment in my life. It was far worse than thinking about my parents’ divorce or any other problem. My mother tried to console me, but she couldn’t come up with words. I wrestled with anger, sadness, and betrayal, before I turned to God in desperation and exhaustion. I had never felt so alone before.
12 But you, O Lord, are enthroned forever;
you are remembered throughout all generations.
But you, Father, you know better than I do and your plans far exceed my own. You are the God who was, who is, and is to come. Just as you have always been there for me, you’ve been there for all of your children since the world began. I will still praise you and trust in you.
In that moment of heartbreak, I couldn’t do anything except think that the only reason God would have allowed this was because He had a bigger plan in mind than I could see. I chose to trust Him because I felt that I would be swept away in my own pain if I didn’t.
23 He has broken my strength in midcourse;
he has shortened my days.
24 “O my God,” I say, “take me not away
in the midst of my days—
you whose years endure
throughout all generations!”
I’m comforted by you God, but it’s suffocating and painful to follow someone blindly. Maybe it’s selfish, but God I ask you to please heal me. Don’t take away my choice! I will adopt, or have no children if that is the life that you desire from me, but please give me the choice. Don’t take away that privilege, even if you have a perfect reason to.
I’ve come to better terms with my condition: I’m healthy and other than my one inability, I will live my life normally. I trust in God and I no longer cry out in anger, but there are still days where I ask Him to heal me. I ask Him “haven’t I waited enough?” and pray for a miracle.
25 Of old you laid the foundation of the earth,
and the heavens are the work of your hands.
26 They will perish, but you will remain;
they will all wear out like a garment.
You will change them like a robe, and they will pass away,
27 but you are the same, and your years have no end.
When I think of you, I’m so swept up in awe that my breath catches in my chest. My father is the one who assembled the skies and the earth. My father is the one who holds the hearts of my thousands of brothers and sisters. My worries and concerns seem so small in comparison to eternity. I won’t stop praying for healing in my body and my spirit, but God I won’t allow my affliction to hide your face from my eyes.