“Why can’t my husband and I get pregnant?”
“Why am I still unemployed?”
“Why do I continue to battle with illness?”
“Why did I experience such a painful childhood?”
“Why did my marriage fail?”
Maybe you have uttered one of these questions – or another one entirely. I know I have. It started on a Saturday morning when I was twelve. As I crept up the stairs, I spotted the suitcases by the door and my teary, swollen-eyed Mom in the olive green, velvet swivel chair (which would actually be quite trendy now). My parents had an announcement to make; they were getting divorced. Minutes later, I lived in a single parent home.
Fast-forward twelve years and I was a happily married young woman trying to have a baby. Five years passed and we still couldn’t get pregnant, having endured several years of infertility tests and treatments. That fifth year I finally got pregnant, only to have a miscarriage in a hotel room after ministering at a women’s conference in Arkansas. Devastated and angry, I went home, unaware I would face an entire decade of childlessness.
In 2009, my husband Mark was riding his motorcycle on a country highway near our home. A girl ran a stop sign, and Mark t-boned the front of her truck going 55 mph. He broke twenty-three bones including his pelvis, both femurs, his knee, foot, many ribs, and his ankle. He is now the bionic man! Following his accident, he couldn’t find work for a year and a half.
Being the introspective artist that I am, it’s way too easy for me to analyze my life and identify every way it could be better. But guess where that’s left me? Plain miserable. I’m guessing you’ve experienced the same result.
We don’t often like to hear it, but the fact is we can find something to be grateful for in every situation. At times it feels like a treasure hunt . . .
For me, my parent’s divorce thrust me right into the arms of my Abba Father. As a result, I spent hours at my piano, and this broken girl became a worshipper.
Through the agony of infertility, prior to our son Christian’s adoption, I grew to trust God’s good intention toward me in the face of disappointment. I experienced joy in my longing.
And following Mark’s accident, I discovered I am good at hiking, because the Lord gave me abundant grace to climb mountains tall and foreboding! I saw Him provide in spite of joblessness. And I was granted a song in the night.
Every day I have to ask the Lord to help me give thanks right where I am. I wrote a song about it. I even have it written on a chalkboard in my kitchen as a reminder. I have found when I make the choice to cup my hands and drink of Him as the rain pours hard and heavy, my heart is set free.
Right Where I Am (lyrics)
I could tune my ear to a bitter song
Or choose hope’s melody
I could curse the ground that I’m standing on
Or pray for dancing feet
I could shout at Heaven when rain pours down
Pounding hard on me
Or I could cup my hands and drink of You
Whatever this life brings
You are good, You are good
Though I may not understand
You are good, You are good
I give thanks right where I am
I could count the cracks in my wounded soul
Or splash in healing oil
I could break down on this broken road
Or run through fields of joy
I could count the ways I wish my life
Had turned out differently
Or awaken to each gift of grace
This pain has helped me see
Today will never come again
These moments passing by
Packaged in my deepest ache
Are treasures in disguise
The sweetest gifts I’ve ever known
From Your tender hand
I could not have guessed they would have come
Come the way You planned
words & music by Shannon J. Wexelberg
© 2012 Shanny Banny Music / BMI / International Copyright Secured
Used by permission.
This post first appeared on the “True Woman” blog – a ministry of “Revive Our Hearts” & Nancy Leigh DeMoss – on February 15, 2013.
Shannon Wexelberg is a mountain-loving, God-pursuing, Colorado-based songwriter, artist, worship leader, wife and mom, who has a blazing passion for the Lord’s presence and for helping lead others there. This week Shannon is leading worship and teaching for LifeWay Worship at Worship Week at Ridgecrest.