A Divine Exchange

PCOS and Endometriosis. That’s the diagnosis doctors have given me. For years, PCOS meant an endless struggle with weight, a constant battle with hormones and more significantly Infertility. It’s been a tumultuous journey for my husband and I, marked with tear-stained pillows, lonely holidays and thousands of negative pregnancy tests. However, our journey took a significant turn when my husband started studying the scriptures regarding infertility. We then based every prayer and all our hopes on the fact that ‘all of God’s promises are yes, and in Christ, Amen’.

At church, during Passover, we used to encourage our congregation to write down their personal battles on a piece of paper. We would then give them a chance to nail their prayer requests onto a wooden cross on Good Friday. This was not a ritualistic or religious practice, the significance was more symbolic. When Jesus died on the cross, He took our burdens, our sins, our sicknesses… and in return, gave us peace, forgiveness and healing –it was Divine Exchange. So by nailing their requests to the cross, it was a symbolic point of contact for their faith.

Those services were special. I remember watching some leave burdens bigger than I could ever imagine there. Every year we would hear testimonies of how God met their needs. And every year, my husband and I would walk together, silently, in tears, and nail infertility to the cross.

In 2015, on Palm Sunday, my miracle baby girl was born.

On Good Friday, I wrote this poem…

Bleeding hearts scribbled on paper,
Burdened ink, echoing our sacred prayer,
We stood –  year after year – at the varnished cross….
Souls bare, words lost…

Many came, with tear stained cheeks,
carrying their hopes on pages that speak,
heavy hammers pounding the wood.

And year after year, we still stood…

Hand in hand, silently we watched,
The young and the old reverently touch…

…that point of faith on nail-chipped beams…
where trembling fingers surrendered their dreams.

Down to our knees, we left you at the foot,
Year after year, that’s where you stood,
A prayer, on paper, nailed to the Cross
Sealed with years of tears and loss

A Divine Exchange, we waited our turn…
Clinging to a promise, with souls that burned,
A begotten son, for a womb to bare,
A right to a covenant we believe we share…

Five years, the number of Grace
It took before victory we’d taste…
And now, here we stand…
The hammer in our hand…

Rejoicing hearts, bold on paper,
Thankful letters, screaming our sacred prayer
An empty tomb, for a cradle that rocks…
Who can deny the Power of the Cross

Coming Soon on A Diary of a Pastor’s Wife SA: Read my full testimony on my battle with PCOS, the road to our miracle and our current journey as we again battle the odds for baby two…

– Genevieve Lanka-Gann