If you’ve followed my blog posts over the years, maybe you noticed that my writing slowed way down since last summer while I recovered from the miraculous gift of a long-awaited baby plus a major move. My mind and emotions have been exhausted, leaving little energy for creative writing.

Although I haven’t been posting as much, I have been thinking about what to write (a.k.a. writing in my head but not actually on paper). I’ve wondered if people still want to read anything I write about infertility… after all, I have a baby now. That baby came in my late 30s, after a long and difficult wait. God willing, we aren’t done having children, even if that means we have another baby or two in my 40s (I’m almost out of time to have another baby in my 30s). Once again, we are hoping and asking God for a child, realizing the outcome is in His hands. Even though I’m no longer in the midst of “infertility,” I’m still a woman asking God for babies. I’m still a listening ear to those who are hoping, praying, and waiting for God to answer their prayers for children. Although I am a mother now, the infertility community is not a foreign world to me, nor are you forgotten.

As I wonder how to blog again after this unintentional break, God prompts me with the thought “you can write about barrenness.” That’s something we all know in one way or another – whether it’s the empty arms and aching heart of infertility, the loneliness of extended singleness, the longing for deep friendship. Maybe you’ve been praying a long time for your family, or you’re desperately praying about a financial struggle. These are just a handful of the areas of life where a person can feel barren, empty, lifeless.

Throughout our journey to parenthood, God showed me over and over again that He’s the giver of good and perfect gifts, and He’s the one who reveals beauty in barren places. We’ll begin to see His goodness and His beauty and find joy in the barren places when we look for and acknowledge His goodness.

Like that cold winter morning I experienced a few years ago. Winter feels so dreary (that’s why I love snowy days, when God blankets a brown and gray world with sparkling fresh snow!) On that morning several years ago, I dragged myself out of my warm bed to go to work, and as I started my car, I looked up to see a bare tree covered in ice, shimmering with the first rays of sunshine. I snapped the above photo with my phone, as I glimpsed God’s painting of beauty in barrenness.

During my wait (and quest) to find a husband to spend the rest of my life with, God did many good things. He allowed me to form deep friendships with other women. He allowed me to travel the world. He gave me lots of fun times!

During our difficult wait for a baby, God allowed my husband to pursue his career. He filled our lives with other people’s children who we remain close to. God opened the door for us to travel, and for me to write blogs and books. He continually showed me glimpses of His goodness in nature.

Like rainbows on cloudy days. Can you see the faint rainbow captured by my phone in this picture?

Another day, I pondered a magnificent tree, not blooming like all the others, a reminder that the tree wasn’t barren forever, it was just a late bloomer. Like me. Over and over again, God showed me glimpses of His goodness in nature. He showed me His goodness in friendships. He allowed me to enjoy pursuing other dreams while I waited for motherhood.

No matter what part of your life feels barren, you can take a moment to see the goodness of God. Ask Him to show you.

I would have lost heart, 
unless I had believed
that I would see the goodness of the Lord
In the land of the living.

Psalm 27:13 (NKJV)

Keep following my posts, because I have more to share on the topic of finding God’s beauty in barrenness. I’ve also been preparing some posts on the topics of infertility over 40, and infertility and the church.