I try not to pick favorites... but... I have a couple favorites. (Don't tell all the others.)
I stood at the check-in desk in the warm summer sunshine, and watched with a big smile as she got out of the vehicle.
She is one of my favorite campers.
Vibrant, kind, laid-back, and just a fun-to-be-around person. Her family's first summer at the Family Camp where I work was also my first summer, and somehow, that made us instant friends. The week when they come to the Bible Camp where I work is always my favorite week of the summer.
We greeted each other with a big hug, just like we've done for four summers, now.
And then she said it.
"We thought you might be pregnant..."
I didn't expect it, honestly.
It's been years that we've been on this journey, and I'm coming to terms with our misfortune (slowly). It doesn't hurt as sharply as it used to, most of the time. But this one surprised me.
It wasn't really the infertility that hurt this time-- it was something else.
She was affirming a whisper, a voice in the vulnerable parts of my soul. A voice that I've been rejecting as strongly as I can.
See. hidden beneath her question, I heard the unspoken comment she was making.
Children are the important thing.
It's a common narrative, especially in Christian circles. And I think we're mistaken.
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