My husband peacefully sleeping in our bed, after being away for a week of training for his job; 60 degrees by 10am, with sunlight streaming in through my front window; a quiet house, a cup of coffee, and me on the couch with the newspaper and my iPad.
But even with all of this, my heart is somewhere else.
I have never been to Oaxaca, but I feel like should be on my way there now.
Our missions team from school left at an ungodly hour this morning for their missions trip. This is a group I’ve traveled with many times (the group, I mean; the students vary as seniors graduate and new ones are added). It was a natural fit for me, as I spent most of my 20s and half of my 30s on foreign missions trips.
This trip was always a highlight for me, and I never felt like I was making a sacrifice, even though I had to give up my Spring Break to go. While exhausting on every level, those trips energized me rather than sucked me dry. Watching our kids fall in love with God, missions, and serving – and being able to serve along side them – is a high for me quite unlike anything else.
My attendance on this trip has been spotty over the last few years. I went faithfully for the first few years, from 2007 – 2009.
I missed my first trip in 2010 because it coincided with my wedding (Hey, it happens).
I went the next year in 2011.
I missed 2012 because it was an awful, stressful year, and I had nothing to give; I legitimately needed the break.
I missed 2013 because I was recovering from miscarriage #1.
And I am presently missing (in every sense of the word) 2014 because of how unpredictable infertility treatment makes your life. There was no way I could have committed that far in advance – especially since I was pregnant when the school year started.
Turns out, had I had a magic ball and could have seen the future, during the week of this trip – no, I would not be pregnant, and no, I would not be ovulating. The window was quite perfect, actually.
But, that information came too late (on Sunday).
So here I am, with my perfect Saturday morning to myself – but wishing it wasn’t to myself. Wishing I was on a plane somewhere over Texas, Mexico-bound.
Infertility puts such a big question mark over so many areas of your life and future. It really is impossible to make any kind of concrete plans more than a few weeks out. Will this be the month that we get our BFP and everything changes? Will I be pregnant? Will I be ovulating? Will I be miscarrying again?
There was just no way I could have said yes to this trip when they needed my yes. It was with choked-back tears yesterday that I hugged them good-bye as some told me, ‘I wish you were coming.’
(Yeah. Me, too.)
In particular, I wonder about my future and missions. In addition to the numerous trips I’ve gone on solo (at least 12 foreign and a handful of state-side – I lost count), my husband and I have been to Nigeria twice together.
I wonder when we will go again. If we will go again. When might that be, if we have a baby? And how can you plan as far out as at you need to if you never know if you will be pregnant?
Will I ever go on another trip with my school kids? Having a baby will change all that, too.
I’m incredibly content with my life right now. A job I love, a husband I love, a church I love, friends I love, all my loved ones healthy. I have a lot to be grateful for.
But a small corner of my heart hears the call from distant, unknown places – and wonders if I’ll ever be able to answer it.
Today, I hear it from Mexico. With every potential opportunity, the calls echo from different dots on the map. But I hear them. And it is hard not being able to answer.
It is bittersweet for me to realize that I am in a different place in my life for the moment – a good place that God ordained for me – but there is a another part of me that is tugged in another direction.
While I’m here in NY, on my couch with my peaceful Saturday morning, my thoughts and prayers drift to all those places I can’t physically be.
Even still, I sit here hoping that, one day, the two will meet up again.
[Your Turn: Anyone else out there have a divided heart?]
[Photo Credit: Wikimedia]