It crept silently upon me from behind, disarming me in an instant, sweeping and swamping my emotional world. A sudden, perplexing grief I’d neither courted nor coaxed with negative thoughts, disaffected grumbling, hidden resentments nor murmuring discontent.

I’d not invited it, encouraged it, nurtured it, nor desired it. But, there it was…

This overwhelming sense of loss at never having, knowing, nurturing, or tenderly loving in the Lord, my own children…

Inexplicably and without warning, there it was.

It wasn’t that at that moment, or in the days and weeks that followed I didn’t ‘know’ with absolute certainty God’s love for me, or have an unswerving confidence in his sovereignty, or a trusting belief he’d not withheld anything good from me. I did.

Likewise, it wasn’t that I didn’t ‘feel’ with a heartfelt assurance my heavenly Father’s love for me, compassion for me, that he wanted only the best for me. Not once did I ‘emotionally doubt’ that he was intimately engaged and tenderly attuned to me, to all I was thinking, feeling & experiencing. All this I knew. All this I was confident of. All this I was comforted by – deeply so. And yet, there it was…

But, I also knew that for a single person to acknowledge such a grief, or express such a grief was not without its complications. Complications of perception, validation and acceptability…what do I mean?