Will it be...

Another in heaven or another on earth? A yup. 4-9-14. Bless you dear child and Christ keep you always.

Abide with Me

The thing about feelings is they are exactly that: the voice of the flesh (what you feel). They very rarely give voice to truth and when they attempt to it is usually distorted or exaggerated or twisted. Flesh gives birth to flesh but Spirit gives birth to Spirit. Flesh cannot be trusted because it very often speaks to its own perceived needs and gives voice to your sins.

Repent.

But Spirit gives birth to Spirit. And the Holy Spirit prompts us and produces in us things of the Spirit.

As a Christian in the darkness that continues to deepen as we approach the eschaton, we sometimes come face to face with that great chasm of death and life, satan and Jesus, damnation and eternal life. Of course we should come in contact with it on a regular basis with daily contrition and repentance. But sometimes we see it, and feel it on a much deeper level...when flesh AND Spirit collide. We shouldn't be surprised by this, after all we are at all times sinner and saint and the two are in constant warfare.

Recently I spent a couple of very awful days wrestling with this. I asked, "What is the difference between those that fall away and those that don't?" What if I fall away?

During that weekend a friend found me pouring through the Gospels. I was looking for the story of the Good Samaritan. A different friend had texted me encouraging me with the words that when all else leave us for dead, Jesus, our good Samaritan, comes to us...even if we are too half dead to know it.

We are never alone. The Holy Spirit prompts us and produces in us the things of God....and I hunger and thirst for them thanks be to His Word that is living and active since the day of my Baptism. And when all else fails, and when it feels like I have nothing and no one left, and I am staring death in the face, and I feel like I will topple into the darkness of death and damnation...Jesus is the one who carries my beaten and dead in sin body unto healing and life and He is who I cling to, even when I'm angry and thrashing like the most ornery of 3 year olds does against his mama, even then I know, as does the 3 yr old to his mama, that He is the one who cares for me and always will no matter how angry and awful I feel. 

The Wedding Chamber

The wonderful thing about the Divine Service is that it is heavenly. It is not a desperate attempt by man to conjure up something pleasing to God or something to create emotions in humans towards their Savior. It is not a work done to earn God's adoration and salvation.

Instead like the manger hugged the baby Jesus it is where God comes to us in seemingly mediocre things, simple things that He created, to give us life:  the Water to drown the sinner and raise the saint, the Confession and Absolution to draw us sinners ever closer to Him in repentance and erase our sins, The Word to grant us wisdom in Christ and to enliven us all the more to the Holy Spirit's work in us, and the Flesh of the bread and wine to fill us with His very self...drowning our sins with His Holy body and blood and feeding the saint within us given us in our water adoption.

It is plain. It is lowly. It is reverent. It is Holy.

It is the bride alone with her Groom in the wedding chamber.

Lord, Thee I love with all my heart;
I pray Thee ne'er from me depart,
With tender mercies cheer me.
Earth has no pleasure I would share,
Yea, heaven itself were void and bare
If Thou, Lord, wert not near me.
And should my heart for sorrow break,
My trust in Thee no one could shake.
Thou art the Portion I have sought;
Thy precious blood my soul has bought.
Lord Jesus Christ,
My God and Lord, my God and Lord,
Forsake me not! I trust Thy Word.

Neither here nor there.

My womb was once full of life, now it houses death. I am not barren. I am not with child. But I am reproducing for heaven. I get to be excited and then devastated. My body gets to change, I get to endure 12 weeks of flu like nausea without the vomiting, I get to gain weight, and then I get to go through body wrenching pain and a grotesque process as my insides crush to deliver the dead body.

I am not barren. To the rest of the world I am 4 times blessed, more than enough, with the most amazing husband in the world.

People keep telling me how to grieve. How to feel. How to live.

But I feel like an outcast, neither here nor there. I'm not barren, but my womb only produces death. Now my living children seem like a gift from a life that has passed as my body has turned over to death.

A friend is making me a beautiful cross stitch that I'm going to frame with a large matting. This way there will be plenty of room for me to write in the names and birth dates of all the babies that die in my body if I have any more babies.

Tonight I congratulated a woman shopping near me in Target who had struck up conversation with me on her pregnancy. She is due right when I was with Anastasia. I ended up telling her when she asked about how many children I have that I was due with her but my baby died. She gasped and said, "oh my, so this was your fifth pregnancy?" I actually cringed when I had to say, "No, my seventh." Seven times. I have seven children.

My Husband, My Pastor

The man who was my Pastor from the time I was age 10 until I became a member at my husband's church had a very very special place in my heart. My Dad started my home church. (Yep, a layman up and started a new LCMS church in a newly developing area of where I was growing up and my Dad put a lot of his hard earned money and his time into securing a place for the members to have Divine service led by local retired LCMS pastors and when that wasn't possible he and his best friend and a few other men took turns leading prayer services.) And when we finally called our first Pastor we still did not have a building of our own so my Dad gave our Pastor a corner office in his law firm. There they began a friendship that was so close that 7 years later when my Dad was killed in his plane crash my Pastor cried through his entire sermon that weekend.

My Pastor was like a second Dad to me. And that's a beautiful thing for a Pastor to be because it was a very wonderful picture of Christ. So when my husband was ordained and a letter requesting a transfer of membership from my home church to my husband's church was sent, it made me both laugh and cry when my Pastor send my husband-pastor a letter telling him he most certainly could NOT have my membership because it had been so long since I had attended church that he was not certain of my standing any longer. Of course this cover letter was a joke reminiscent of the humor my Dad and Pastor often concocted and shared with one another and the second letter, affirming my transfer of membership, was the one that made me cry as he shared how hard it was to hand me off to someone else.

But my second Pastor picked up right where my first Pastor left off. And where I at first had some very awkward feelings about how I was to approach my husband for pastoral care, and I struggled trying to navigate the waters of what to do for private confession, I now cannot imagine having anyone other than my husband provide my pastoral care.* I feel like I am the only one to do this and have been advised quite sternly by other pastors wives that I am making a grave mistake to do this, but my husband is my Father Confessor. I have not confessed to another pastor formally (I say formally because several best friends of mine who happen to be a pastor's wife have sat through a lament/confession of mine or so while I visited with her and her husband. And of course any good Pastor cannot help but step in and perform pastoral duties if he is in such a hearing.) since before my husband was ordained.* At first it was out of necessity. We lived in a very remote area and it felt too awkward trying to find another pastor, especially one so far away. But then when we moved to the city I realized that the thought of going to another Father Confessor felt like cheating on my Pastor. He is my Pastor. I am his sheep. I trust his voice, I search him out for guidance, and I look to him as my representative of Christ and His love on this earth.

Some argue that it is not appropriate to confess to your husband, especially if there are sins to confess that involve the 6th commandment. I confess everything to my husband pastor. And he forgives everything. And as my husband he should know everything anyways. And if we were to ever need outside help due to my sins or his, we would find another Father Confessor for both of us to see together.

I have asked my husband several times over the years if he continues to be OK with me confessing to him. Of course he too is but a man and if he ever had a struggle with it, I would happily go where he led me for pastoral care.

*There has been but one exception to this in his time as my Pastor. It happened when we lost Anastasia. One of the first nights after we found out she had died I was shut up in the nursery upstairs spiraling down into a pit of despair and my husband Pastor tried to come up and offer pastoral care. I yelled at him while sobbing and made him leave. What I yelled was that how DARE he try to come in and offer pastoral care when his CHILD had just DIED. He was supposed to be as angry and hurting as I was. For him to come in all calm and try to offer care, well, it created for the first time this great divide and suddenly it was like he was more my pastor than my husband and I couldn't take it. It left me EVEN MORE alone in an already intoxicatingly isolating process. So I sought out those amazing best friend pastor's wife types and as soon as we found out we were pregnant with Amadeus I demanded a Pastor to take my husband's place if something were to happen again. I am so thankful we did and I have been so thankful to the Pastor who has stepped in to care for my husband and I.

Not that it's any of your business...

It's starting already. It doesn't surprise me and part of me doesn't even blame them. I myself have had some similar thoughts.

"You should probably take some time off, your body has been through a lot."

"Maybe God is telling you to be happy with the family you have."

"You can't keep doing this to yourself. It's too much."

It IS too much. Too much death. Too much suffering. Too much heartache watching lives of the unborn be stripped before they even have a chance to breathe. And when I suffer, my family and friends suffer too.

³⁸ Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. ³⁹ Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.”⁴⁰ Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” ⁴¹ So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. ⁴² I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” ⁴³ When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” ⁴⁴ The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” John 11: 38-44 ESV

I do not know why my babies are going to heaven before I even get to hold them. But I do know that I am married. I am healthy and thereby am not knowingly putting babies in jeopardy by being open to conception. And I know that children are a blessing, a gift, and the very creation of the Lord Himself. They are not a scientific accident. They are not a definite result of unprotected one flesh union. They are given when and where God pleases for He alone opens and closes the womb. 

My husband and I will continue to be open to life. And if all of our children continue to go home to heaven then, as my husband says, we will be storing up treasures in heaven.

This last pregnancy I made a choice with my husband to not tell anyone we were pregnant. It was meant to protect both us and them for this outcome. Unfortunately for me I hemorrhaged at church while teaching Sunday School which suddenly made it public to a lot of people. But then we needed serious prayers as our baby fought for his life. And then I realized how stupid it was to keep it secret. I meant well but it's not my job to protect people from sadness. Sadness is a part of the Christian life, of every person's life, and I suppose if it's too sad people don't have to pay any attention.

So thank you to all who have been such a wonderful and understanding support. If God so blesses us again, I look forward to sharing our joyful news with you, even if it turns to sadness.

The wrath of God

"As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him." (John 9: 1-3 ESV)

God is not punishing you. He is not taking your babies or not giving them to you at all because you are not or would not be a good mother. All of His wrath against sin was taken out on His Son on the cross. Rather, in all suffering, and we all have it, God works His good. The refining and purifying that takes place in our hearts during our suffering is certainly painful and it's a process that will never be over on this side of heaven... but it will turn us forever more towards Him. Sin is not dead. It is paid for. 

photo credit

Thorny Hell

There's a certain melancholiness that takes over when you've had a miscarriage. Especially when you have had two miscarriages. Especially when those two miscarriages have happened in a span of less than one pregnancy.

The world is not going to stop for me. Friends and family will not come to mourn with me. I'm not whining. It's just a fact. And they shouldn't anyways because there will not be a funeral. There won't be an obituary. There's nothing to talk about anyways.

People will offer coddling words but it doesn't change the fact that tomorrow you will wake up alone in your barrenness and physical pain to get over it and accept the fact that you have no control over your life and you have to be OK with that because even if you're not there's nothing you can do about it.

You won't do yourself or anyone else any favors to fall into a dark hole of grief because it's not going to change anything and it will just make you lonelier.

God is good. God never changes. God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. God is not a buddy Christ and He isn't there to make you live your best life now.

Life is just awful sometimes. And you'll hate yourself for feeling that way because no amount of pity will make it better but will just make you angry that no one can do anything the hell about it.

So you'll act like it never happened and challenge anyone who looks at you sympathetically with an obnoxious look and tell them to leave you alone.  And then you'll marvel in secret that having life stripped from your body when it was too tiny to even look like a human can hurt so much that it feels like your heart has been ripped out of your chest....and that doesn't even cover the embarrassment and grotesqueness of the physical side of a miscarriage.

But the thing is God has to be enough because He is the only one, THE ONLY ONE, who can be what you need. And the only way for Him to be what you need is not to expect that it will feel good. Or that it will make you happy. Or that He will ever give you another living child ever again or at all. Or that you will ever feel happy again. Or that you will ever feel comfort and healing from anything or anyone in this life.

Because God does not promise that in this life.

The only way for your needs to be met is to go where God promises to be, to receive Him in the way He says He gives Himself, and to know (not necessarily feel) that God sent His Son Jesus to save us from our sins so that one day all this Hell on earth WILL BE DESTROYED with all the vengeful wrath of a righteous and Holy God on the evil wretched liars of the devil. And though your sins make you just as deserving and guilty, your sins will be forever erased. Your tears will all be accounted for and wiped away. Your Lord will hold you to His bosom, His Holy arms of love, the place you were missing all of these lonely awful wretched years on earth, and your Heavenly Holy Perfect Love will return your children to your side.

The reason you are so angry with all of your friends and family on earth in this time is because they are not who you are truly yearning for and they can never be what you need right now. You are yearning with the fire of a thousand suns for your Creator. And you feel it now more than ever because He is holding your offspring in His arms and your mother's heart knows it and aches beyond words to join Him. A part of you, of your own flesh, is already in heaven and your soul burns and aches beyond words to join it.

So you will get up. You have to. Wipe your eyes, attend to your duties, and go to the most meager meal in the world. One sip and one bite, despised by so many in it's simplicity and apparent lack of glory and power, because we know it is the miracle where God promises to somehow, some way, sustain you one awful breath at a time in the thorns and hell of this life, to get you to the eschaton.

He is coming as He said.

Amadeus Aurelia Haven 7-2-13

The worst of the physical stuff is over (note: cytotec is not for the faint of heart), and we have named our 7th child.

Amadeus: (Norwegian) The love of God. This is in honor of my husband, who's little sister used to call him "Ami" when he was little. He is proud of his Norwegian heritage and I am so proud to be his wife.

Aurelia: Golden. Aurelia is the name of the tune to the hymn "The Church's One Foundation" which is one of our most favorite hymns.

Haven: A safe place. Just because I liked it and I like the person that suggested it. :)

And now our prayer is that our sweet Amadeus will rest secure in the arms of Christ in His Golden Haven until we meet again.

We love you sweet baby.

How you can help

Dear Friends, I have to give this disclaimer before you read this that these are things I have learned for helping others. This is in no way a request for my own self. God has been so gracious to me and I feel so loved and provided for by so many. It is simply for you and me and our lives as Christians to give ideas on how to serve even more.

I'm in labor right now with our 7th child. I will announce the name when all is over. But since I've had a little experience lately with grief I want to offer some kind encouragement to those who are on the other side looking at one in grief and feeling helpless on what to do. So here's a few things I've encountered.

1. Don't say, "Please let me know if you need a meal." Say, "When can I bring you a meal?" and then have several times ready to suggest that you know you can do and follow immediately before she can answer with, "Do you have a meal tonight? Or what about Thursday night? I would like to bring one to you please."

I have had so many people say, "Let me know if you need a meal." but I'm never, never going to tell someone I NEED a meal unless my kids were starving. I would never want to put my own emotions and laziness brought on by grief ahead of my neighbor's own time and resources. So if you want to do it, do it. If not, she will survive and God will provide for her.

2. Texting, fine. Email, fine. Facebook, OK. A phone call: better. * A random thing in the mail (a card, pictures your kids colored her, a little trinket (esp something personal about you: do you have a special interest or ability of something you make home made?), stuffed animal, chocolate, or if you live close, a hand picked bouquet of flowers, etc): has the power to take a day where she is alone and suffering and bring the light and love of Christ right to her if you can't be there. A visit: the best of all. (Bring a meal, or flowers, or a set of hands to hold her children and read to them so she can get five minutes to just sit and enjoy watching you with her children, giving both her and them joy...well, you're mothering her at a time in her life when she so rarely gets mothered anymore.

3. Pray and ask the Lord to show you ways you specifically with your own unique relationship to her and your own unique abilities can be a blessing to her.

4. Pray for her. Because she prays for you. In her suffering she prays for you and prays that you will be well and that you will never have to endure the suffering she has. She knows you too have your own suffering that is just as great, for we all do, but with Christ she knows both you and she will survive to the eschaton.

I hope some of this is helpful and I hope I never forget so that I can be as much of a blessing to my friends/neighbors in their day of need as everyone has been to me!

*I want to be very clear that texts, emails, and phone calls have all had the power to turn my day around and have meant so very much...but when a woman is suffering and she walks away from her phone or her computer, well suddenly she's all alone again. I have stacks of cards in my night stand that I am able to hold and touch and think of the dear friends that sent them and the babies they were sent for...it's sometimes the only physical piece of evidence I have for a pregnancy.

When Reason fails

One of Luther's prayers: "Dear Lord Jesus Christ, my longing is so great that I cannot express it in words. I know not how to ask. See my heart. What more shall I say? My suffering is greater than all my complaining. I cannot counsel myself with reason nor comfort myself with my own courage. Comfortless, helpless, and forsaken, I am completely at loss. My God, you will not abandon my hope. You will hear my prayer and satisfy my desires. I will pray and wait for your grace. Hear me and fulfill my hope. Amen."

Until we meet again

Our 7th child has become our third to go home to heaven. May Jesus keep you sweet baby until we meet again.