I Will Praise Him Still

"When the morning comes on the farthest hill

I will sing His name, I will praise Him, still.

When dark trials come and my heart is filled

With the weight of doubt, I will praise Him, still.

[Chorus:]

For the Lord, our God, He is strong to save

From the arms of death, from the deepest grave,

And He gave us life in His perfect will,

And by His good grace, I will praise Him, still."

Fernando Ortega

Listen to "I Will Praise Him Still"

This song has been on repeat in my car for the past week. I wasn't planning on listening to it; in fact, I didn't really know it before now. I just randomly put in a cd because I was getting fed up with the political nonsense that clogs up NPR these mornings. I almost had to pull over the first time it came on because it resonates so deeply with this season in our lives. After the first round of IUI, tests came negative. Statistically, our fertility doctor shared, if this process is going to result in a pregnancy, it will happen within the first 3 cycles and she will move on to other interventions after those 3 times if things are not joining up. Which means we are one down, two to go. I'm typically a plan-for-the-worst-so-I-won't-be-disappointed person, so I wasn't surprised or shocked by the test. But it doesn't erase the pain or physical toll this grief process is taking on us. Or any easier to praise God. 

Since we've been praying about our journey the past several years, we've decided that the IUI procedure is the furthest in medical intervention that we want to go. Then begins our journey in a whole new season. A whole host of other times for waiting and trusting and putting our hope in God. But if I focus on what comes next, I miss the present cocooning and soul growth that comes with the waiting I wrote about last blog.

Our pastor, who is going through his own journey of grief mourning the loss of his wife to a long battle with cancer, shared something last week that has been rolling around with me since. He said, "God's goodness is not defined by our circumstances." What an amazing reminder that God does not change in my pain or gladness. His very nature is good, despite the evil that is controlling our world. The unbridled grace of God goes before us and invites us into a loving relationship when we curse and weep and harbor bitter resentment. When we are not so good.  It is in the midst of such deep suffering and "weight of doubt" that Jesus quietly waits for and accompanies us.  God’s perfect will reestablished a path for relationship with Him through Jesus, in spite of our sin and rejection and faithlessness. So yes, I am in mourning. But God is good and I will praise him still. And yes, I am full of doubt. But God is good and I will praise him still. And yes, I am tired in this journey of infertility. But God is good and I will praise him still. I repeat this not for poetic emphasis, but as my act of placing one foot in front of the other in faith. As an exhortation to myself to remember the loving-kindness of God who, in spite of the trials of this world, is good.  A goodness that is not dependent on, or defined by, my status as “barren” or “mother” or “wife” or “employee” or “boss” or “smart” or “kind” or “angry” or “sinful.” And for that, I will praise Him, still.