Lara Brazle shares her story with us today. A story of how God’s people became an environment of grace for her and her husband David during a time when they needed a safe place to discover how God resurrects life after being told life wasn’t possible. She’s a beautiful, honest soul and I’m thankful for her family’s witness of who God is.
Our story of grace starts in a little room at an urology clinic. It was a day of hope turned grey, as our dreams of having children biologically were dashed. After a couple years of infertility, we had been hopeful for an answer. The answer we received, however, was not the one we were prepared for. Sertoli-cell only syndrome. It was so final, so void of hope, so stealing of our plans. We were crushed, but we were surrounded by people that would make our story more bearable.
In the days that followed, we experienced grace in amazing ways. The people in our bible class and home church assembled at a friends house to surround us. They stood next to us, holding our hands in our most fragile moments, and prayed over our broken hearts. Those people, those moments, made us able to pick back up our pieces and start a journey of healing.
We had countless emails of support from friends and family. They told us they were sorry, offered support, and let us know we were loved. This outpouring of support was so welcome. So needed. We needed to know the people that surrounded us were on our team. They didn’t ask questions about what would happen next. (I expected questions like, are you going to use a donor? Still try invitro? Are you going to adopt?)They just said they loved us. These questions would come later and they were much more welcome then. Now, 2 years later, I still get some of those questions. And I’m okay with answering, because it means you are caring about my story. After all, isn’t that what we all want?
There was also a group of women, my share group, that rose up to give me a safe place to be me. To process, to heal, and most of all, to pray. They let me bear my soul, with all the ugly, all the anger, and spoke truth of a better future into my life. In so many ways, those women saved my faith. One having walked the same path I was on, and the others having lived more life than I certainly have. And as I have emerged “from the ashes,” these women have helped me be me again. Slowly shaping me, praying over me, and guiding my spirit.
Even with all of our grace-filled experiences. I still have those hard moments. Ones that threaten to knock me down. The world operates under the pretense that you get married and then have children. And for most, this plan works. When it doesn’t, everything changes. The world looks different. Even though we all seem to try to set ourselves apart (in many ways), to be different, we really just want to be the same. We want to hear the comments about how much your child looks like you, and we want to watch our newborns to see what features our children picked up from us. Most of all, we want to sit in a room full of women and be able to relate to the birth stories being told. Because, it seems that whenever I am in a group of women, the conversation always strays to child birth. But, as we experienced grace, I give grace (or try) in those moments. Trying to always be genuinely excited about another pregnancy story. To hear the stories of women in child birth, as they are proud of their stories too. I’m still learning, but I’m trying.
And while our most dear story of grace is not a path we wanted to take, we did it. We survived, and we are forever grateful for those that surround us. We needed them, and they responded. And in April 2011, we all celebrated as our son was born. Not to me, but to a woman who is a special part of our lives. She gave life and resurrection to a story that was re-written. That re-written story is the best part. Our little boy has reached into the deepest parts of our hearts, and brought light. His smile still heals, still reminds us of our journey, not with sadness, but with triumph. We made it. We were also shown grace in profound ways. Because of that, we will never be the same.
Feel free to respond to Lara here. Let’s encourage each other in our stories!