Venom and a mustard seed
Co-written by Lauren Allen and Serenity Quesnelle
Anger like venom
Sitting alone in the lovely room that holds space for our future child/children, I became angry. Anger is not an emotion that I am accustomed to. Typically when I am upset or frustrated I feel sad or discouraged, but anger is on a whole different level. This anger was on a whole different level and I felt it. It was as if venom rushed through my body, my heart was racing, my skin was tingling, and the color red was clouding my face. I was physically hot and seriously considered how good it would feel to break everything I had prepared in this room. In retrospect, this fit of rage did not match the severity of the situation. “What evoked this anger?” you may ask. A very inconsiderate social media post by someone I do not know and have never met. Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?
If I’m being honest, I have been feeling frustrated and angry a lot lately. Reading that post just tipped me over the edge. I have been downright mad at God. (I’ve vocalized this to Him.) In my humanity, I can not comprehend why I was chosen to carry the cross of infertility. At times I have even found myself feeling angry at God for calling me to found The Fruitful Hollow and then I’ve immediately felt guilty for thinking that way. When this ministry was in its earliest stages at the beginning of 2021, I remember opening up to my mom with tears streaming down my face, asking her if she thought that this call might mean I would be infertile forever. I didn’t want to carry the cross then and I don’t want to carry it now. “He is redeeming your infertility through this call,” my mom replied. “Give it to God.”
The incredible things that have happened already through The Fruitful Hollow and the Sisters of Hannah mentorship ministry have been truly mind-blowing. It’s not us, it’s the Holy Spirit. And yet even in my gratitude for The Fruitful Hollow, I’m still angry that this is my story.
Back in the empty nursery, the tears began almost as quickly as the anger had torn through my body and I glanced around looking for anything to hold onto or maybe even something to throw. Sitting on the end table was my rosary. I reached for it (what’s a better anchor than a rosary?) and instantly felt peace wash over me. The venom was gone. In that moment, the smallest act of faith - all that I had energy for - saved me. God walked in and the evil that had run havoc on my body fled.
Faith the size of a mustard seed
The world tells us our faith in the Lord should be BIG, right? It should be bigger than all things. Bigger than our fear, bigger than the unknown. We should have enough faith to last a lifetime and it should be unwavering! But we know all too well that having faith and trusting in the Lord doesn’t mean life will be smooth sailing. No matter how much or how little faith you have, nothing promises you a life without struggle or a path without sorrow.
Jesus understands our small humanity and tells us we don’t need to have a lot of unwavering “BIG” faith. We just need to have faith the size of a mustard seed. Tiny amounts of faith are enough. Tiny acts of faith are enough.
“Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20)
Sure, we all strive to have great faith in our Lord, but in those moments where you’re angry with him or relating more to Thomas than not; when closed doors you were trying to pry open suddenly lock shut; when you are lost, confused and heartbroken; when you feel you have no faith left in Him at all… muster up just a mustard seed’s worth of faith. Use that mustard seed of faith and take a step toward Him. Your Father is waiting with His loving arms open.
To hug you.
To carry you.
To fight for you.
I hope you know that you are still worthy and deserving of His grace and mercy with even faith the size of a mustard seed.