This week is Spring Break at my work. Per usual, I had all sorts of plans for “getting caught up” over the break. We’re about halfway through the week and those robust plans of completing grading, responding to overdue emails, and crossing off the to-do list items have yet to materialize. 

However, what I have been able to do thus far is rest, visit with friends, host guests, take walks, write, provide a meal for a family, celebrate a friend’s birthday, and just be. More importantly, I’ve also been able to lean in deeper to Our Lord as I let myself be carried and surrender it all to Him. I have been engaging in the Lenten reflections Springs created and am grateful for these bite-sized morsels that I can mull over in my heart as I go about my days.

This time to pause and refocus on resting in the Lord is so important. Sometimes we may distract or busy ourselves to such an extent that we don’t realize we are missing the rest we need. To truly lean into and rest in God requires us to also physically rest our bodies during the sometimes hectic and busy lives we lead. Rest is important. One could even say it is more important than the work we do, as engaging in rest can be a form of surrender and absolute trust in God’s Providential care for us. 

Remember, even in the Creation story God rested on the seventh day! He modeled for us the need to rest and to keep holy the Sabbath. In this context, I believe resting does not mean ignoring the schedules, charting, tracking, announcements, pregnant bellies, and families we see seemingly everywhere but, rather, taking a moment and remembering who we are and Whose we are. 

I was reminded of this at Mass the other morning. My family and I tend to go to the Saturday Vigil Mass, but conflicts in schedules and other arrangements landed us at the Sunday morning Mass recently. The very sounds and sights of small children, growing families, young parents, and families spilling out from the pews that drew my husband and me to that church eleven years ago are now painful reminders of what will never be for our family of three. What once served as beacons of hope now serve as pinpricks of pain. 

Over the last nine years, however, the pain has dulled somewhat…or maybe I’ve gotten better at managing this particular pain and holding space for it. The joys of family life have been integrated with the pain of living with secondary infertility, and living with both simultaneously have created a sort of ebb and flow within my daily circumstances. By our very nature, women are made to be receptive. Through the way our bodies are designed and through our natural ability to receive, we are able to hold it all…the good, the bad, and yes, even the pain. God sees us and knows us. He sees the pain. He sees how we face it and live with it. 

Toward the end of the Mass, the light on the ceiling of the church flickered, drawing my gaze upwards and away from the busy family in the pew in front of me. I had been about to spiral into lamenting our smaller family size and fighting feelings of envy as I saw former student after former student and friends from my community standing around me pregnant with their second, third, fourth, or more child. It seemed everywhere I looked, there were swollen bellies, little toddlers itching to burst out from the pews, and the sound of coos and cries. Though as my eyes floated Heavenward, to look up at the flickering light, I settled my gaze on the Crucifix. It was then the lyrics from the song currently being sung rang deep in my heart. 

Everything I once held dear
I count it all as loss

Lead me to the cross where Your love poured out
Bring me to my knees, Lord, I lay me down
Rid me of myself, I belong to You
Oh, lead me
Lead me to the cross

Yes, God knows each of us intimately and faced the most excruciating pain of all. He understands. 

He loves us as we are. 

By taking a moment to slow down and shift our eyes to Christ, we can both acknowledge and hold space for our pain, while at the same time opening ourselves up to His powerful love. When we rush through life, constantly focusing on our to-do lists and tasks, we can miss the opportunity to be carried through our pain by Him. He sees our crosses and longs to help us carry them.

We can nurture and care for others through our receptiveness to others. Our marriages and families are not less than because they look different from how we may have envisioned  them looking on our wedding day. They are just different – and we may come to this realization if we slow down each day and take the time to look for the good that does exist within our marriages and families. We are indeed blessed with many gifts. We are so blessed  because our God is a loving and kind Father who does want to give us all good things. We only have to be still and receive them.

Megan Reister, wife to Adam and mother of one young daughter named Charlotte, loves peanut butter and chocolate combinations, puppies, and her home state of Pennsylvania. Now an Ohio resident, she is a teacher who enjoys working at a Catholic university and helping preservice teachers become advocates for the children they will serve in their vocations. Spiritual motherhood has always had a place in Meg’s heart, and even more so as she and her husband face secondary infertility. You can read more from Meg on her personal blog.