Months passed. The expected blessing of children did not arrive. Esther prayed longer hours, fasting and pleading in the quiet of her room. At church, she smiled and encouraged others, hiding the ache in her heart.
Daniel, though strong on the outside, battled a storm inside. He feared failure, feared his wife would blame him silently, and feared that hope might slowly drift away. In the stillness of the night, he sometimes whispered, “Lord, help me be the husband she deserves.”
Daniel’s mother approached gently. “My son, perhaps you should visit the prayer house, or try the herbal remedies I know,” she suggested, her eyes lingering on Esther. Though wrapped in concern, Esther felt the unspoken blame.
That evening, Esther knelt by her bedside. “Lord, I trust You. Help me walk through this storm with grace.” Daniel watched, torn between defending his wife and honoring his mother.
The hospital waiting room smelled of antiseptic and anxiety. Doctors reassured them, “Be patient, all is well.” Daniel tried to joke, hiding the tremor in his heart. Esther gripped his hand, silently pleading for answers, reassurance, and hope.
After the appointment, they walked out in silence. Words were unnecessary—their shared glances carried the weight of prayers that went beyond medicine, touching only God.
Family meetings grew tense. Every visit, every comment carried weight. Relatives asked questions wrapped in smiles: “How soon now?” Esther felt the piercing gaze of their expectations. Daniel tried to shield her but felt powerless.
That night, Esther whispered in prayer, “Lord, let our marriage remain strong. Protect our love from doubt and expectation.” Daniel lay beside her, silently acknowledging that love alone could not shield them from all storms.
To be Continued. …
