When I think back, I thank God for the wonderful home He gave me. My childhood was as happy as any little girl could wish for. My daddy was the pastor and my mommy, the teacher. Together, in a happy way, they taught my brother and I how to live, love, and serve God.
My happiest hours were spending time together each day, having family worship, and learning to trust Jesus with every little thing. The years passed, the moves added up, and the school years finished.
My parents home motivated in us their consecration to God's work and gave us the desire to finish the work that they loved so much. I wished with my whole heart to someday become a pastor's wife. God granted my wish and made it become a beautiful reality.
About six years have gone by since our lives were united before God. Many dreams and illusions intermingled as we heard my father praying a blessing on our home. Soon we began to weave the golden dream of our lives, to have our own little girl. We believed God would give us the petition of our heart, even as we were certain of our love for each other. Days and months passed and our hoped for daughter did not come. We started medical analysis and long studies and waited for the results. The exams were painful and each time more frustrating and distressful.
Where was God when we prayed? Why did we not sense His answer? It was just a long, painful silence.
When I opened my Bible and read that those who loved God, in everything, He would help them. I asked myself what good was it to be frustrated in not being able to give my loving husband a little daughter. I saw all my married friends with their children healthy and happy. I envied the hugs they received while I hid and cried out my pain.
Among the various medicines I took, my biggest frustration was that I was gaining weight and I couldn't remedy my condition. In a little over a year, I weighed 16 kilos more and was unable to accept myself. How could my husband love and accept me if i was unable to do it?
We prayed long hours, but the only reply was silence. Where had we slipped up?
My situation worsened, as my body rejected the medicine. I spent a lot of time fighting the idea of stopping the treatment, I knew what that implied and I was unable to accept it. Bitterness began to invade me.
After three tearful years went by, one night I made a decision. We had just spent several hours going back and forth to the bathroom. My husband carried me in his arms as my legs could no longer support me. This condition was the reaction of a new medicine. That night I cried and told God I could not live this way, crippling the joy and vitality of our young home. What was the most important to me? My husband had begun his second year as an aspiring pastor. I knew perfectly well the importance of being a suitable helper to him. Thus it was that I breathed deeply, went to the bathroom and threw the pills in the garbage.
I knew I was doing the right thing, but I did not feel happy or even at peace toward the impossibilities in my life. Why was God silent? What plans did He have for us?
Each morning I began the day by asking God to restore my joy and assurance that everything in this situation was under His control and that one day I would understand His plans—maybe here, maybe in heaven. I humbly asked that I would learn to happily accept His will and praise Him for everything He gave me.
It was a slow change in learning to thank God for denying me the thing I longed for the most—asking Him to do His will and not what I wanted done. Another year went by before my body was free of the hormonal effects and I was able to maintain my regular weight. This brought me great rejoicing.
We considered the possibility of adopting a baby. Our families were hopeful, but even in this I did not feel very happy.
The day came. It was a Monday, my husband's day off. We had planned every detail so that nothing would spoil it. (The week before, I cleaned every room of the house and the house seem to sparkle everywhere the eye looked.) The night before we had each surrendered ourselves to God, confessed our known and unknown sins to Him—nothing was to interrupt our communion with heaven. It was a beautiful day of prayer. We didn't ask God why, we didn't ask for what we wanted, but we thanked Him for knowing our requests. We also prayed for peace and happiness to know that His hand was guiding us even in the refusals and privations of this life.
Together, as never before, we were convinced that God would answer above and beyond what we could ever ask or hope for. We felt joyful that Ile had heard our cry, and we felt the peace of heaven fill us completely that we could come into the presence of God with humbleness of heart. These thoughts counteracted Satan's ideas that God was not interested in us or that He was far away.
God's silence is sometimes the tool of heaven to help us understand that we need to change our way of asking God for favors.
A few months went by and the day arrived when we received a call to go get our little daughter. This was no longer the most important thing of our life. If God didn't give her to us, we would continue to be happy because we had come to trust in the unexplainable silence of God. No longer did I feel sad that our home didn't flourish with children full of life, fragrance, and happiness. God was in charge of our lives.
It is not as important to understand the whys of life as it is to grasp His hand that sustains us and leads us to a safe harbor. We receive only a little from God because we ask little from Him.
Everyone that asks believing will receive, over and above. Only Christ can give us peace and happiness,
"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it" (Heb. 12:11).