Adrie’s Testimony: When Dreams Come True

As I am writing this, I get to stare at my now almost four year old miracle baby daughter. A daughter that was not suppose to be here without struggling to concieve. But God’s timing and miracle’s are beyond human comprehension…

You see, I suffer from PCOS and rarely have regular periods. When I was diagnosed, I was told that it would be difficult for me to conceive, if at all possible. The doctor told me that we would have to try fertility treatments when we are ready to start trying for a baby.

When my husband and I got engaged, I told him that he has to be sure that he wants to marry me if chances are good that I might not be able to bare a child. He made peace and ensured me that he will be okay if we don’t get pregnant. It always bothered me until one day I prayed to the Lord and said that, I now give it over to him completely. I am no longer going to worry about it or feel saddened by it.

We did get married and I was on contraceptives to try and ease my PCOS  related symptoms. We decided that we would go on a fertility treatment one year after marriage. Four months after we got married, I had a dream. In my dream I was given the words: “Nothing is impossible to God.” In my dream, I saw my toddler daughter named Mea. When I woke up, I truly believed I was pregnant. I did a test and it was negative. (Remember, I was still on contraceptives). Despite this, I still was convinced that I was pregnant. I decided to take another test the following day. There was a faint second line on the stick. My brain was telling me one thing–and my heart something else. It simply was not possible.

I then Googled the words given to me in my dream and learned that it was in fact Luke 1:37! (For nothing will be impossible with God.” Luke 1:37) I called my husband and we went to our doctor. He was also very skeptical and said that the sonar does show that it looks like I ovulated, but we must not get our hopes up and come back in two weeks time.

Two weeks passed and we were back at the doctor. Then the sonar did show our little miracle! Everything was not smooth sailing, as I had a threatening miscarriage early on. Thanks to a miracle working God and a wonderful doctor, our baby carried through and we had no severe further complications. When the sonar eventually confirmed the baby’s sex, I knew what her name was suppose to be.

We decided to name her Mea-Lemé. Our pastor told us to search for the meaning of her name because it will mean something. To our surprise, or rather amazement, Mea means work of the Lord, to bitterly desire something, deeply hoped for child, daughter, mine. How faithful is our God? Our beautiful blue-eyed blonde girl truly is our greatest blessing and we thank God for her each day. Even though we might not have another, we leave that up to the Lord. To all the women out there, stay positive. Let go and let God!

–Adrie


I am in awe of God. Thank you so much for sharing your story Adrie, and I think so many women who read these testimonies can relate to what you’ve been through, not only with your struggle in dealing with PCOS, but also in longing, yearning to be pregnant, then praying to carry to term, a healthy and happy baby. What a beautiful story! Adrie, you’re so brave to share with us!

If you would like to share your testimony of how God has healed your womb, or how He has healed, or is healing your soul (whether or not you have a baby) please email me at [email protected] and check out the writer’s guidelines at “Want To Share Your Testimony?” I feature a Testimony each Tuesday, you can also subscribe with your email address, or follow along on my Facebook Page.

Photo by Daniela Rey on Unsplash

Adrie’s Testimony

As I am writing this, I get to stare at my now almost four year old miracle baby daughter. A daughter that was not suppose to be here without struggling to concieve. But God’s timing and miracle’s are beyond human comprehension…

You see, I suffer from PCOS and rarely have regular periods. When I was diagnosed, I was told that it would be difficult for me to conceive, if at all possible. The doctor told me that we would have to try fertility treatments when we are ready to start trying for a baby.

When my husband and I got engaged, I told him that he has to be sure that he wants to marry me if chances are good that I might not be able to bare a child. He made peace and ensured me that he will be okay if we don’t get pregnant. It always bothered me until one day I prayed to the Lord and said that, I now give it over to him completely. I am no longer going to worry about it or feel saddened by it.

We did get married and I was on contraceptives to try and ease my PCOS  related symptoms. We decided that we would go on a fertility treatment one year after marriage. Four months after we got married, I had a dream. In my dream I was given the words: “Nothing is impossible to God.” In my dream, I saw my toddler daughter named Mea. When I woke up, I truly believed I was pregnant. I did a test and it was negative. (Remember, I was still on contraceptives). Despite this, I still was convinced that I was pregnant. I decided to take another test the following day. There was a faint second line on the stick. My brain was telling me one thing–and my heart something else. It simply was not possible.

I then Googled the words given to me in my dream and learned that it was in fact Luke 1:37! (For nothing will be impossible with God.” Luke 1:37) I called my husband and we went to our doctor. He was also very skeptical and said that the sonar does show that it looks like I ovulated, but we must not get our hopes up and come back in two weeks time.

Two weeks passed and we were back at the doctor. Then the sonar did show our little miracle! Everything was not smooth sailing, as I had a threatening miscarriage early on. Thanks to a miracle working God and a wonderful doctor, our baby carried through and we had no severe further complications. When the sonar eventually confirmed the baby’s sex, I knew what her name was suppose to be.

We decided to name her Mea-Lemé. Our pastor told us to search for the meaning of her name because it will mean something. To our surprise, or rather amazement, Mea means work of the Lord, to bitterly desire something, deeply hoped for child, daughter, mine. How faithful is our God? Our beautiful blue-eyed blonde girl truly is our greatest blessing and we thank God for her each day. Even though we might not have another, we leave that up to the Lord. To all the women out there, stay positive. Let go and let God!

–Adrie


I am in awe of God. Thank you so much for sharing your story Adrie, and I think so many women who read these testimonies can relate to what you’ve been through, not only with your struggle in dealing with PCOS, but also in longing, yearning to be pregnant, then praying to carry to term, a healthy and happy baby. What a beautiful story! Adrie, you’re so brave to share with us!

If you would like to share your testimony of how God has healed your womb, or how He has healed, or is healing your soul (whether or not you have a baby) please email me at [email protected] and check out the writer’s guidelines at “Want To Share Your Testimony?” I feature a Testimony each Tuesday, you can also subscribe with your email address, or follow along on my Facebook Page.

Photo by Daniela Rey on Unsplash

Don’t Throw Yourself Away

“What’s this?” My husband said holding something at the top of the stairs. “Why was it in the trash?”
He walked down the steps holding it in his hand.

It was a picture. Of me, when I was fifteen. I remember it was taken by my friend during a sleep-over at her house. I’m just standing there with my duffle bag over my shoulder. And I have kind of an awkward smile. My clothes don’t fit right. My hair is puffy.

“I hate that picture,” I told him. That was why I threw it away when Selah ran upstairs with it the other day in her hand, when she and her dad were cleaning out the basement.

“No,” he said. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I said.

“You don’t throw pictures of yourself away. We don’t do that. We keep them. These are memories, Bekah. Someday people will want to look back on pictures of us–even if we didn’t like them.”

I never knew he felt this way. Or that he had such great conviction about it. My daughter didn’t see me shove it into the trash.

But he saw it in there, the next day, in the little wastebasket in our bedroom.

And he reached down, and pulled it out.

He pulled me out of the garbage.

And isn’t this just what Jesus does?

We throw ourselves away. We bury ourselves under the garbage. We wish away some of our years. Wishing they never happened. Not even wanting to remember. Who we were, or how we looked then.

We just want to forget.

But He…

He loves us. We are precious to Him. And He carefully reaches into the garbage, and pulls out that picture of us. Looks at it with love. Cherishing the awkward smile, loving the puffy hair. Loving the girl under those ill-fitting clothes. And all the confusion of who we were. And wanted to be.

Holds us against His warm chest. And whispers, so gently, and so firmly, “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t throw yourself away. Not ever.”

Don’t Forget To Add Love

I have a confession. My husband makes better chocolate chip cookies than I do. “It’s the dough,” he tells me. My cookie dough is always over worked, and my cookies are flat as pancakes. “You shouldn’t use that “thing,” he says. By that “thing,” he means my Kitchen Aid mixer. He calls it the “machine.” And gives me a look when I turn it on.

He turns it off.

“Cookies need love,” he tells me. “You need to get your hands in the dough.” He takes the metal bowl from the mixer, and takes an old-school wooden spoon and mixes the dough. “It’s too hard for me to mix that way,” I tell him. He looks up with his green eyes, sets the spoon down, puts his bare hands into the dough to make sure it’s mixed well. But not over worked.

He pops some into his mouth, “Perfect,” he says with a smile.

I sit at the counter and watch, like a student.

“See Bekah,” he says, “You need to add love,” he tells me. I push my Pampered Chef cookie dough scooper across the counter towards him. He purposefully ignores it. Instead, he takes two metal spoons from the drawer. “Why don’t you just use my scooper?” I ask. He gives me a look, shakes his head. Continues gently scooping with his two metal spoons. Until each one is carefully set on the tray.

And somehow, eight minutes later…his cookies turn out perfect. Every time.

“It’s because I add love,” he tells me. I can’t help but laugh. “Okay,” I say.

But I’ve been thinking about my husband’s cookies lately. I think about them when I’m making chili, adding in the spices, or cutting the tops off the strawberries. I think about them when I’m making the cookie dough. I hear his tender voice in my mind, “Don’t forget to add love.”

So, I do. I shut off the “machine” mode my mind automatically kicks into. And I add love. It’s those moments I stir just a little softer. I put my hands in the dough. I remember who I’m cutting the strawberries for. My daughter who squeals with delight like it’s Christmas morning when I hand her a bowl of them. My husband who will enjoy this dinner tonight, and needs a wife who will laugh across the table from him–and not frown, because she’s so busy doing all the “things.” And I think of my own mama body, that needs this food, these nutrients–to make milk for my baby boy, and energy, to care for this family, and myself–with joy.  And to do these things, finding pleasure in them. Because there is this secret, hidden pleasure you feel…when you add love.

And there’s a lump in my throat. Because I know he’s right.

You need to add love. It makes it taste better. 

It’s so easy to do it. To get caught in the routine, in the machine.

And sometimes you just get lost in it. The hustle. Like the dough whirling around in the Kitchen Aid mixer, beating hard against it’s metal sides. Because there’s always meals to plan, and food to buy, and cook, and clean off plates, and clothes, that need washed. Going round and round and round–in the machine. Like a carousel you can’t jump off of.

And sometimes you need a strong hand to reach over, and shut the machine off. And remind you to set all your gadgets down. And stick your bare hands in the dough. And…

Remember to add love. 

When you are cutting up the apples, and cheese, and turkey for lunch,

don’t forget to add love. 

When you are cooking dinner, and stirring the sauce, adding the spices,

don’t forget to add love. 

When you are filling the washer with dirty clothes, and pouring in the detergent and softener,

 don’t forget to add love. 

It’s the smallest thing, and yet the biggest thing. It is the most subtle and the most powerful thing you can do. And it somehow changes the world–their world, and yours.

And maybe that’s why God reminded us to “love” in 1 Corinthians 13…because He knew we’d forget. And He said…it’s not about how “spiritual” you are, it’s not about how much you can “accomplish,” or “do,” it’s not even about how much of your “self” you can give away–to your home, to your kids, or to other people. It’s about doing it with love.

“Love is patient and kind…it is not irritable or resentful…Love bears all things, hopes all things, endures all things…”

“So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three, but the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13

It’s a small thing. But it’s the biggest thing.

The smile, the gentle touch, the laugh at their joke.

The way you stroke their hair.

They won’t ask for it,

But they will taste it when it’s there.

And so will you.

So roll your sleeves up, mama. Stick your bare hands in the dough. Let the flour fly like confetti. Sweep it up with a smile. Because this is your life, and theirs.

And it all tastes so much better when you,

remember to add love.

Tanya’s Testimony

I’d like to share my testimony to all the ladies out there. Keep on keeping on, and trust in God with all your heart and soul. He knows the plans He has for you.

Two years ago, my husband and I decided we were ready to start a family. Although we were no strangers to infertility, since we have close family on both sides who have struggled with it, we thought we’d be different. We thought for sure, we’d be pregnant within 4 months.

After a year, it became apparent that something was wrong. We went to the doctor. He made some suggestions. We tried again. Nothing happened. Just when we were about to start on our first round of fertility treatment, I found out I was pregnant. I’ll remember that over joyous, exhilarating feeling for the rest of my life.

I was shaking when my husband came home, couldn’t even find the words to tell him.

Then, at about five weeks, my HCG levels dropped quite badly and the doctor confirmed my fears – I was miscarrying.

I remember crying and sleeping for two days straight without the physical experience of it even having started.

It was during this time, when I was feeling more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life, that I turned to God.

I’ve always had an up and down relationship with Him – more or less every time I needed Him I seeked Him out. So, I turned to Him out of fury, anger and resentment.

It felt like He never, ever granted me anything I’d asked for. I remember reading your blog during that time, specifically the bit where you said you prayed to thank God for the reasons you weren’t pregnant. At first I laughed about it, it sounded ridiculous. Then, as resentment and anger turned to sadness and depression, I felt the need, more and more to talk to Him.

He was the only One who truly knew what I was feeling. So I started praying – every day I thanked him for a list of things I was grateful for in my life, each day adding something new to the list.

Soon, the mist of sadness started to lift, and although the desire still burned brightly in my heart, day by day, I felt closer to the Father who had a plan for me, and who’s plan was always better than my own. I prayed, over and over again for His will to be done, not mine.

And for some time, I felt relief. I didn’t react in anger or sadness every time I saw or heard of someone being pregnant. All I felt during that time, was the need for God’s will to play out in my life and for Him to work through me and touch others.

I’ve always been a shy and reserved person, especially regarding my faith – it’s not something I talk about every day. I like writing though – usually for my own entertainment. But somehow I scraped together the courage and started writing again, giving life to the emotions that I carried with me through the whole process. But it felt good sharing, and suddenly I was flooded with stories of women I knew and adored, who went through such similar experiences that it shocked me to know that there were so many, and that they’ve never talked about it to anyone. I believe this was a time of healing for me and all of them.

Then one day, during December, a close family member shared the news that they were expecting. For some reason, this just totally broke me again.

We always talked about raising our children together.

It felt like I was being left behind.

And although it was a very hard time for me, I refused to let it drive a wedge between me and my Father again. I started diligently reading my Bible, seeking comfort in His word. I got myself a book to help guide my prayers, which I felt were all over the place. It helped, tremendously.

I had good days and bad ones, but mostly felt like I was getting it together again, so when my husband suggested we see the doctor again, I was ready. Went through some procedures, got some medication again. I wasn’t feeling hopeful though – because I wasn’t putting my faith in treatments and doctors, I was putting my faith in God’s plan.

“I wasn’t putting my faith in treatments and doctors, I was putting my faith in God’s plan.”

And then, when I least expected it – one day when I was positively having PMS like symptoms and cramps, when I was bored and I was cleaning out my bathroom… I found a stick. I thought, well, why not? And there it was – positively positive. I am now 21 weeks pregnant.

It was only after I found out and started telling everyone, that I realised how many friends, family and acquaintances were praying for me.

I didn’t know they cared enough.

But God listened, because He hears every prayer, and if we ask in His name, He will grant us the desires of our hearts. In HIS perfect timing and according to HIS perfect plan.

–Tanya,  South Africa


Thank you for sharing this Tanya! Wow, tears fill my eyes. And we rejoice with you as you carry this little one in your womb!

If you’re reading this, I don’t want you to brush over the part where Tanya said she (in the midst of her infertility) began to thank God during her inability to concieve. I know it sounds crazy, but thanking God during infertility was something that brought me such release of joy and freedom from the weight I was bearing. If you want to read more about that, you can click here.


If you would like to share your testimony of how God has healed your womb, or how He has healed, or is healing your soul (whether or not you have a baby) please email me at [email protected] and check out the writer’s guidelines at “Want To Share Your Testimony?” I feature a Testimony each Tuesday, you can also subscribe with your email address, or follow along on my Facebook Page.

Love, Rebekah