Pain and loss, disease and war, none of these are laughing matters. None of these things are creations of our Lord, none of them exist in creation as He intended.
So, today, as I see the headlines of America going crazy on "black Friday", my heart may be sad for the brokenness, but it is not afraid. To fear something means there is uncertainty in our outcome. But these are but birth pains, and all things are under the power of our Lord Jesus Christ. The mess is not a creation of our Lord Jesus, but all of creation is subject to Him, thanks be to God. So, there is no fear, because we are His.
Therefore, sometimes it helps to just turn off the news, put down the phones, and go build legos with the boys, or put your hands to something beautiful. He is coming soon. Amen, come Lord Jesus.
Showing posts with label Suffering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Suffering. Show all posts
Friday, November 27, 2015
Monday, December 15, 2014
When Divine Meets Death
Yesterday as my children and I walked up to the rail to receive the Lord's Body and Blood, I was caught off guard by an unexpected sight. The third Sunday in Advent is known as Gaudete Sunday, or, the Sunday of rejoicing. On this Sunday in Advent we turn slightly from the somber repentance that is the Christian's focus while contemplating our Lord's second coming and judgement day, and we rejoice that for those in Christ His second coming brings peace and eternal life.
"Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." (Matthew 6:28-29 ESV)
So, imagine my surprise then when, adorning the floor area in front of the chancel, I saw three beautiful funeral arrangements. I remembered that the day before the church had held a funeral for a member who just went home to the Lord but, found myself instantly captivated by the sight....and by the irony. In my church the Sunday of rejoicing is not only met with the pink candle on the advent wreath being lit but the entire church bursts forth the decorations of Christmas and, later in the afternoon, the choir shouts forth beautiful hymns of advent in a concert for the entire community. So, there I knelt, staring at two 25 ft tall evergreen trees decked tip to stump in Chrismons and twinkling lights, and...funeral flowers.
My eyes trailed to the altar and, for some reason, my eyes were caught by the edge of the white altar covering and the pole that holds it in place running through its side. Suddenly my mouth went dry as I thought back to the previous Holy Week and the stripping of the altar. I could still see in my mind Pastor pulling the rod out so the covering could be gently folded up and removed, leaving the altar naked and bare.
I looked from the flowers to the trees over and over and it hit me, the life of a Christian truly is constant irony. It's black and white, sinner and saint, weeping and laughter, repentance and absolution, Christmas and Good Friday, Good Friday and Easter, death and life.
Suddenly I loved those funeral flowers. They made a very bold statement that I do not think was intentional on the part of the person who left them. We hold hopeful, expectant vigil as we await our Christmas feasting but on this side of heaven Lent will come once again, as will Good Friday. It will come in our lives too...suffering, sickness, depression, misfortune, destruction, torture, war, death...but there's a reason we adorn caskets with flowers. It's not some kind of departing "thank you" note to the deceased, it's a testimony of life.
Those flowers are a testimony of a promise, a declaration of faith. Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ WILL come again, and when He does, He is taking us home.
I wish I could arrange for there to be funeral flowers on the third Sunday in Advent every single year. Gaudete Sunday was the first Sunday after my Dad's deadly plane crash. I remember thinking then how ironic that was, and yet, how wonderful. We rejoice even in death because Christ is coming for us, and when He does, oh Happy Day!!!
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Fear
"Some went down to the sea in ships, doing business on the great waters; they saw the deeds of the LORD, his wondrous works in the deep. For he commanded and raised the stormy wind, which lifted up the waves of the sea. They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths; their courage melted away in their evil plight; they reeled and staggered like drunken men and were at their wits' end. Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress. He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed. Then they were glad that the waters were quiet, and he brought them to their desired haven." (Psalm 107:23-30 ESV, emphasis mine)
This passage has become one of my all time favorite Bible passages. One of the reasons it is my favorite is because of the verse in bold. Well, and the last verse of the passage because haven is one of our children in heaven's middle names.
We've all known fear: deep, intimate, soul crushing fear. Combine fear with another emotion/weakness like grief, illness, despair, etc and what you face turns down right ugly. They mounted up to the heaven; they went down to the depths; their courage melted away in their evil plight...
I had just turned 29 when I faced my first miscarriage where I thought I was dying. My dr had prescribed a medication to take after the baby's body emerged to prevent post birth hemorrhage. What she did not know from the very short time I was her patient was that I have very low blood pressure, and I did not know that this medication lowers blood pressure. So, 20 minutes after taking the medication I had two crushing contractions, by far the worst pain I have ever felt (even after giving birth to four full term babies with no drugs), my vision went black, and I lost the ability to speak. My only thought, due to research I had done in preparation for having the miscarriage at home, was that due to my symptoms of extreme dizziness and blacking out I had something blocking the way out in my uterus and I was bleeding out internally. I knew this could mean death and I remember screaming in my mind, "Lord! No! Please not like this! Please don't let me die in front of my husband with my kids right on the other side of the door playing!" I imagined my kids growing up knowing their mommy died while having a miscarriage at home in the bathroom. That thought still makes me sick.
Last year I faced my own mortality more times than I care to talk about. My body kind of likes to bleed, a lot, and when with my second loss at 11 weeks I tried to get my OB to perform a d&c and, instead, she sent me home with cytotec to induce while again at home with my husband and kids I had to have a good cry in my bedroom before I had the courage to start. That time I really did have something get stuck, began to have severe dizziness after waking up from several hours of sleep with no further bleeding and my husband helped save my life by putting his weight onto my abdomen to push it out. That man and I have had good times.
And now I'm facing another full term birth. Those have been fun too. But we won't go there.
Fear. It creeps up on you, stealing your joy, making you despise the gifts God has given to you, causing you to lay sweating in the night as you fight of the demons that attack you as you face the wages of sin: death.
But...if death does not end in hell, in punishment, then where is its sting? Where is its victory? It's like being certain someone has broken into your house and you're seconds away from being slayed where you stand only to have a furry kitten poke it's head around the corner and nuzzle you. (Though my husband would say that's about just as bad. ;)
Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.
I'm terrified to give birth. I'm afraid my baby and I won't make it to the other side of birth alive. I'm afraid of the pain and agony that is transition for me. I'm afraid of having horrific tearing like I've had in the past. I'm afraid of that moment when you realize something is going very very wrong and there is nothing but faces all around you unable to make it stop.
"they reeled and staggered like drunken men and were at their wits' end. Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress. He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed. Then they were glad that the waters were quiet, and he brought them to their desired haven."
Lord, hush the storm, deliver us, and bring us at last to the safe haven of Holy Baptism. Christ keep us.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
The Darkness Deepens: And why that's OK.
In the past few months I've come under a lot of ridicule for the title of my blog. I was confronted rather harshly by a couple of loved ones and it sometimes still confounds me.
Today was a bad day. I woke up to two of my children rowdily getting out of bed (which they are not allowed to do) and thus awakening their baby brother who was in his big boy bed for his very first night. They woke him-and me- up an hour before we are accustomed to getting up. But because baby boy was awake I had to hop out of bed and get up there because he also just potty trained and I needed to get his night time diaper off so he could use the potty. Within the span of an hour I dealt with about 5 meltdowns from over-tired children, a dog that was insisting on trying to dig holes in the yard and eat his own poop, a few huge spills (two of which were the dog and included him grabbing a full cup of smoothie and tossing it up into the air where it hit the wall and splattered all over himself, the wall, and the floor and the other of which was a half drank bottle of kefir, which he enjoyed immensely). By the time my husband got up I wanted to sob and was so tired I didn't know what to do with myself.
This evening my husband left for church and I sent the children upstairs to play. I read an article that I had seen linked to and had been wanting to check out because I'm always up for a good lashing that will remind me how selfish I am so I can try to repent more, be better, and therefore attain piety.....um, what? Yea, don't deny it, you know you are too:
http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/the-me-monster/
Thankfully I'm getting better at spotting these types of articles for what they are and turning to what Scripture actually says.
About the only thing I found truly helpful about the above link was the very last recommendation to counter one's own thoughts with God's Word. But my passages would look far different from hers. See how she beats herself down with more law? Law for law. She shares in depth a very deep and very hard personal struggle to the Law and how she was about nearly crushed from her need to find perceived perfection in the Amish faith and then how does she say she came out of it? Here was her before:
"What about me? I am tired! Furthermore, I want to raise my kids Amish; my husband won’t allow me to do this; what about my dreams? What about how I feel? They are my kids too! I have been through so much. I, I, I, and what about me, me, me” (notice the “ME” monster). That was my sin. Depression is selfish. When you are depressed, you are only thinking about yourself—about poor and unfortunate ME. I was seeking my own. "
"Once I got my focus off myself and onto what my purpose was, and onto Christ, it really made me get better. I had to start realizing that things could be worse. I had to start seeing things differently. I was really bad.....I want to be patient, to endure the hard times, and understand God’s perfect will and timing in the lives of others."
"Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you, 7 casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you. 8 Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.9 Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. 10 And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. 11 To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen." 1 Peter 5:6-11 (emphasis mine)
"Some went down to the sea in ships,
doing business on the great waters;
24 they saw the deeds of the Lord,
his wondrous works in the deep.
25 For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,
which lifted up the waves of the sea.
26 They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths;
their courage melted away in their evil plight;
27 they reeled and staggered like drunken men
and were at their wits' end.
28 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
29 He made the storm be still,
and the waves of the sea were hushed.
30 Then they were glad that the waters were quiet,
and he brought them to their desired haven." Psalm 107:23-30
Today was a bad day. I woke up to two of my children rowdily getting out of bed (which they are not allowed to do) and thus awakening their baby brother who was in his big boy bed for his very first night. They woke him-and me- up an hour before we are accustomed to getting up. But because baby boy was awake I had to hop out of bed and get up there because he also just potty trained and I needed to get his night time diaper off so he could use the potty. Within the span of an hour I dealt with about 5 meltdowns from over-tired children, a dog that was insisting on trying to dig holes in the yard and eat his own poop, a few huge spills (two of which were the dog and included him grabbing a full cup of smoothie and tossing it up into the air where it hit the wall and splattered all over himself, the wall, and the floor and the other of which was a half drank bottle of kefir, which he enjoyed immensely). By the time my husband got up I wanted to sob and was so tired I didn't know what to do with myself.
This evening my husband left for church and I sent the children upstairs to play. I read an article that I had seen linked to and had been wanting to check out because I'm always up for a good lashing that will remind me how selfish I am so I can try to repent more, be better, and therefore attain piety.....um, what? Yea, don't deny it, you know you are too:
http://nogreaterjoy.org/articles/the-me-monster/
Thankfully I'm getting better at spotting these types of articles for what they are and turning to what Scripture actually says.
About the only thing I found truly helpful about the above link was the very last recommendation to counter one's own thoughts with God's Word. But my passages would look far different from hers. See how she beats herself down with more law? Law for law. She shares in depth a very deep and very hard personal struggle to the Law and how she was about nearly crushed from her need to find perceived perfection in the Amish faith and then how does she say she came out of it? Here was her before:
"What about me? I am tired! Furthermore, I want to raise my kids Amish; my husband won’t allow me to do this; what about my dreams? What about how I feel? They are my kids too! I have been through so much. I, I, I, and what about me, me, me” (notice the “ME” monster). That was my sin. Depression is selfish. When you are depressed, you are only thinking about yourself—about poor and unfortunate ME. I was seeking my own. "
And here is her solution to this problem:
Hmmm....Do you see the problem here? I don't see any loss of the "me monster" she claims to have found to solve her problem.
My dear sisters, you cannot rid yourself of the "me monster". You simply cannot. You cannot stop hurting, you cannot stop muddling through the diapers and the laundry and the filth and the hardships...they (the hurting, the selfishness, the desire to be free from our burdens and sins) just aren't going to go away. They just aren't. The low pressure weather systems with the storms building up behind them kind of days that depress us (or at least me) are still going to come, the news is still going to show the insanity going on around the world that leads us to stare in horror and go, "What the hell?", and we are still going to yell sometimes, be as selfish as the naughtiest 2 year old sometimes, and just not have the energy to do more than throw sugar laden junk at our kids to get them to SIT DOWN AND BE QUIET sometimes.
So what does God's Word say to us? Sisters, the secret when going through God's Word is not to apply law to law. Oh yes, those passages the author of the article shared are God's Inspired Word but did you see their context? Those passages are not written in the context of applying to the hurting, the broken, the law-sick person. Read through the entire Bible and you see that God never changes: He applies law to the unrepentant haters of God and GOSPEL to the hurting, despairing, but faith filled believers in Christ..So read these:
"[13] Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. [14] For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. [15] For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. [16] Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. [17] So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. [18] For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. [19] For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. [20] Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. [21] So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. [22] For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, [23] but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. [24] Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? [25] Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin. "(Romans 7:13-25 ESV)
"Some went down to the sea in ships,
doing business on the great waters;
24 they saw the deeds of the Lord,
his wondrous works in the deep.
25 For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,
which lifted up the waves of the sea.
26 They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths;
their courage melted away in their evil plight;
27 they reeled and staggered like drunken men
and were at their wits' end.
28 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
29 He made the storm be still,
and the waves of the sea were hushed.
30 Then they were glad that the waters were quiet,
and he brought them to their desired haven." Psalm 107:23-30
Christ has died, Christ is Risen, Christ will come again. And HE will lift you up in due time. And in the mean time we keep on asking our children to forgive us, we forgive as we have been forgiven, and we drag our weary souls where He promises to be: His Word and His Body and Blood, and in the remembrance of our Baptisms. There we find strength for our souls and the courage to keep moving. He IS coming indeed! If there is one thing I hope my children learn from me it is that life is like the above Psalm. We will stagger and fall and be at our wits' end...but Jesus comes, He always comes. I hope my children always know we cannot save ourselves and we can never be good enough, Mommy certainly is not, but we are LOVED, we are FORGIVEN, and Christ gives us His Very Self and does not leave us as orphans. We are His, bought with His Blood, and it's OK to be sad, it's OK to have bad days, we forgive and keep on moving in Christ's help and Christ's joy.
Peace be with you and Christ keep you.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
One day at a time
I've been kind of avoiding this place lately. I'm not sure why. With spring and now summer like weather I have been very busy outside. I planted a large garden in early spring in a small greenhouse we set up and last weekend my husband and I spent the entire weekend taking the greenhouse down, tilling, planting, laying straw, building a fence around it, etc. It was a ton of work but so rewarding. I now have about 25 tomato plants growing (roma mostly) so that come harvest I can process and can salsa, home made ketchup, and spaghetti sauce. We eat a lot of all three so I want it to be home made and cheap!
We also re-landscaped our entire front garden. When we moved in 2 1/2 years ago, the garden had three MASSIVE shrubs and some bulbs that came up each year. Last summer we removed the largest shrub...with our van. We're cool like that. Then a few weeks ago my husband and his brother removed the other two with an ax and man muscle. So over the last few weeks I have planted over 50 bulbs around our 3/4 of an acre, most of them in the front garden, and we also planted two magnolia trees in the front and I laid about 20 bags of mulch. I'm pretty proud I've done all of this work while also being in the first and beginning of my second trimesters.
Today I spent the entire day out pulling weeds, tending my garden, and then I surprised my husband and seriously deep cleaned our garage and reorganized it. All of this I did by myself!
A lot of people have asked me if, now that I'm 16 weeks along, I am able to breathe easy and know everything will be OK with this baby. I can't help but laugh and sigh all at once. A dear friend of mine lost her baby at 38+ weeks. Even before my long run of losses, I was never the same after that. Of course now it runs much deeper but I do not think I will ever feel the same about pregnancy again. I will always until I am, God willing, able to hold the baby in my arms, be aware that at any moment the Lord could call my baby home. This is sobering, scary, gives me nightmares that I'm waking up hemorrhaging as I miscarry...and yet, those are just bad moments. I've had enough suffering in the last year plus to know that suffering is just suffering. Bad moments are just bad moments. Death is just death, but only because Jesus took what sin and the devil meant for our permanent destruction and swallowed it up with His own death.
Christ Jesus lay in death's strong bands,
For our offenses given.
But now at God's right hand He stands,
and brings us life from heaven.
Therefore let us joyful be,
and sing to God right thankfully,
loud sonds of Alleluia, Alleluia!
It was a strange and dreadful strife,
when life and death contended;
The victory remained with life,
the reign of death was ended.
Holy Scripture plainly saith,
that death is swallowed up by death
It's sting is lost forever,
Alleluia!
I don't know what the future holds. I am so thankful for this rest from loss but I know that even if the Lord were to call this baby home, He would sustain me and my family. But for now we are able to rejoice and thank God for this miracle, praying fervently for this child's baptismal day to come in due time and that this child and the rest of our children will be sustained and granted earthly lives full of joy in their service to Christ and His church.
We also re-landscaped our entire front garden. When we moved in 2 1/2 years ago, the garden had three MASSIVE shrubs and some bulbs that came up each year. Last summer we removed the largest shrub...with our van. We're cool like that. Then a few weeks ago my husband and his brother removed the other two with an ax and man muscle. So over the last few weeks I have planted over 50 bulbs around our 3/4 of an acre, most of them in the front garden, and we also planted two magnolia trees in the front and I laid about 20 bags of mulch. I'm pretty proud I've done all of this work while also being in the first and beginning of my second trimesters.
Today I spent the entire day out pulling weeds, tending my garden, and then I surprised my husband and seriously deep cleaned our garage and reorganized it. All of this I did by myself!
A lot of people have asked me if, now that I'm 16 weeks along, I am able to breathe easy and know everything will be OK with this baby. I can't help but laugh and sigh all at once. A dear friend of mine lost her baby at 38+ weeks. Even before my long run of losses, I was never the same after that. Of course now it runs much deeper but I do not think I will ever feel the same about pregnancy again. I will always until I am, God willing, able to hold the baby in my arms, be aware that at any moment the Lord could call my baby home. This is sobering, scary, gives me nightmares that I'm waking up hemorrhaging as I miscarry...and yet, those are just bad moments. I've had enough suffering in the last year plus to know that suffering is just suffering. Bad moments are just bad moments. Death is just death, but only because Jesus took what sin and the devil meant for our permanent destruction and swallowed it up with His own death.
Christ Jesus lay in death's strong bands,
For our offenses given.
But now at God's right hand He stands,
and brings us life from heaven.
Therefore let us joyful be,
and sing to God right thankfully,
loud sonds of Alleluia, Alleluia!
It was a strange and dreadful strife,
when life and death contended;
The victory remained with life,
the reign of death was ended.
Holy Scripture plainly saith,
that death is swallowed up by death
It's sting is lost forever,
Alleluia!
I don't know what the future holds. I am so thankful for this rest from loss but I know that even if the Lord were to call this baby home, He would sustain me and my family. But for now we are able to rejoice and thank God for this miracle, praying fervently for this child's baptismal day to come in due time and that this child and the rest of our children will be sustained and granted earthly lives full of joy in their service to Christ and His church.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
What does this mean?-A Mother's Day post
I guess you could say that when Tom and I left Midland we had a mess of theories about how to raise children. We still have a mess of children, but no theories. Sure, 12 is still our number. It's the number of months my book was on the bestseller list. It's the number of job offers Tom turned down before we found one close to home. And each day it's the number of times I'm thankful there's such a thing as family. "Kate" -Cheaper by the Dozen
Mother. What does this mean? I once thought it meant making my children into what they needed to be. Kind. Generous. Believers in Christ. Joyful. Serving. Self controlled.
I could not have been more wrong. Oh and what a shame for the years I burdened myself with such an awful law which put me at war with my own children!
Here is why I was wrong:
I cannot MAKE my children into anything.
I cannot force-produce, or produce at all, fruits of the Spirit in my children.
I cannot create faith in my children.
I cannot keep my children from falling away from the faith.
No amount of perfection in me could ever make perfection in my children...especially when there's no amount of perfection in me and never will be on this side of heaven.
So what shall I do then? What does this mean?
It means I can commiserate.
It means I can ask forgiveness.
It means I can give rewards, blessings, treats...just because life IS hard, and I know this full well and I want you, my child, to know that I know it's hard and that somehow, together, we will press on.
It means neither you, my child, nor I, will ever be perfect here on earth so we will just have to muddle through as best we can, by the grace of God.
It means we can rejoice together when the sun shines and the good days come, and hold hands or cry together when the crosses are so hard.
It means I will make you go to church, as my father did to me, every single Sunday unless you can't get out of bed, because even though some days we both hate going because church is hard, a discipline rather than an emotional high, we know it is there that Christ comes to us, creates saving faith in us before we know to seek Him, indwells us with His Holy Word and His Body and Blood to sustain that faith and produce in us desires for the things of God, and fills us with His very Self. It is often the gifts that are the least flashy that are the ones we can't live without and that bring us the greatest help, love, and joy.
It means that I love you unconditionally, always and forever, bad days and good. It means I will fail. I will sin. I will yell. I will get angry. I will mess up big time....but I will always love you. I will always be here for you as long as the Lord gives me breath. And I would give my life for each one of you. To the children that have called me "Mom"..... and the ones that never got the chance.... I love you with my life.
Love, Mommy
Mother. What does this mean? I once thought it meant making my children into what they needed to be. Kind. Generous. Believers in Christ. Joyful. Serving. Self controlled.
I could not have been more wrong. Oh and what a shame for the years I burdened myself with such an awful law which put me at war with my own children!
Here is why I was wrong:
I cannot MAKE my children into anything.
I cannot force-produce, or produce at all, fruits of the Spirit in my children.
I cannot create faith in my children.
I cannot keep my children from falling away from the faith.
No amount of perfection in me could ever make perfection in my children...especially when there's no amount of perfection in me and never will be on this side of heaven.
So what shall I do then? What does this mean?
It means I can commiserate.
It means I can ask forgiveness.
It means I can give rewards, blessings, treats...just because life IS hard, and I know this full well and I want you, my child, to know that I know it's hard and that somehow, together, we will press on.
It means neither you, my child, nor I, will ever be perfect here on earth so we will just have to muddle through as best we can, by the grace of God.
It means we can rejoice together when the sun shines and the good days come, and hold hands or cry together when the crosses are so hard.
It means I will make you go to church, as my father did to me, every single Sunday unless you can't get out of bed, because even though some days we both hate going because church is hard, a discipline rather than an emotional high, we know it is there that Christ comes to us, creates saving faith in us before we know to seek Him, indwells us with His Holy Word and His Body and Blood to sustain that faith and produce in us desires for the things of God, and fills us with His very Self. It is often the gifts that are the least flashy that are the ones we can't live without and that bring us the greatest help, love, and joy.
It means that I love you unconditionally, always and forever, bad days and good. It means I will fail. I will sin. I will yell. I will get angry. I will mess up big time....but I will always love you. I will always be here for you as long as the Lord gives me breath. And I would give my life for each one of you. To the children that have called me "Mom"..... and the ones that never got the chance.... I love you with my life.
Love, Mommy
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Faith
Once upon a time the theology of glory had crept its way into my definition of faith. The theology of glory likes to do that, especially in America. I once thought that having faith meant staying positive. I thought it meant hoping for the best, that God would give us OUR best. I thought it meant not being pessimistic and expecting blessing.
Are you in a time of plenty? God is good. Are you in a time of need? God is good. Are you facing illness, persecution, or death? God is good.
Saturday night I experienced the last of my morning sickness. It came to an abrupt end. I was 9 weeks and 1 day pregnant. I knew this was too early for the sickness to end. Sunday came and went, Monday came and went, and by Tuesday morning I knew I needed to call in for an ultrasound. I knew this baby was gone. I didn't feel like doing devotions with the kids but I forced myself remembering that the fiery darts of the devil are so easily extinguished with the Word and hymns. So the kids and I read our readings for the day and then sang "God's Own Child I Gladly Say it", "O Little Flock, Fear Not the Foe", and "Lord of our Life". With each hymn I felt my voice singing a little louder and with a little more peace, hope, and reassurance. I did not have faith or hope or reassurance that my baby would live, instead, I had faith and hope and reassurance that come what may, the Lord is with me. Behind me, beside me, within me. And if He leads me to grief, there is nothing I am experiencing that He has not already faced, but without sin.
That is NOT faith.
Faith is knowing, come what may, that Jesus is still Jesus.
"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1
But what are those "things hoped for"? Are they money, riches, a baby, a huge house, success, fame?
Further down in the passage we read:
"Women received back their dead by resurrection. Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated—of whom the world was not worthy—wandering about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.
And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect."
(Hebrews 11:35-40 ESV)
Saturday night I experienced the last of my morning sickness. It came to an abrupt end. I was 9 weeks and 1 day pregnant. I knew this was too early for the sickness to end. Sunday came and went, Monday came and went, and by Tuesday morning I knew I needed to call in for an ultrasound. I knew this baby was gone. I didn't feel like doing devotions with the kids but I forced myself remembering that the fiery darts of the devil are so easily extinguished with the Word and hymns. So the kids and I read our readings for the day and then sang "God's Own Child I Gladly Say it", "O Little Flock, Fear Not the Foe", and "Lord of our Life". With each hymn I felt my voice singing a little louder and with a little more peace, hope, and reassurance. I did not have faith or hope or reassurance that my baby would live, instead, I had faith and hope and reassurance that come what may, the Lord is with me. Behind me, beside me, within me. And if He leads me to grief, there is nothing I am experiencing that He has not already faced, but without sin.
We got our ultrasound time and I admit I was so sad and downcast. But faith is not defined by countenance but by assurance. And of this I was assured: that Christ always keeps me. Finally we sat face to face with that screen. I held my breath as the wand came to my skin, grimaced, pleaded for mercy regardless, and then beheld God's creation, complete with a flickering heart and wiggling hands and feet. One thing is for certain, this little one is feisty!
For today God has chosen this particular blessing in this particular way because He is God and He has called this good. I am overwhelmed with thankfulness. I do not know what tomorrow holds but I am so thankful that I know my faith is not defined by my definition of blessings, but by God's. Come famine, come pestilence, come persecution, come death, come hardship, come repetitive loss, Jesus is Good and His ways are always, always, for our good, to bring us to our heavenly home.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Stuck where I don't want to be
This morning in church just a couple words into the Old Testament reading for the day I had tears streaming down my face. It was the beloved passage in Ezekiel of the valley of the dry bones. When I was pregnant with Anastasia's dead body I read that passage out loud every day in faith that if the Lord wanted to He could raise my baby back to life.
The New Testament reading was the raising of Lazarus. Enter more tears.
It's strange being in the season of Lent at a different time of the year because I will always associate Lent now with finding out our baby was dead right before Ash Wednesday and then going through the first week of Lent plus a little of the next waiting to birth her, and then giving birth and waiting the rest of Lent to be able to bury her body because the ground was frozen. Now I'm in the season again but of course past all the dates of those events. Instead of being so close to Easter and finally being able to put flowers on my baby's grave, I'm waiting for the week after Easter when we are hoping to hear a heart beat on doppler. It was that 12 week appointment with our Anastasia where the doppler gave us nothing but stark silence.
It's an agonizing wait. I'll be brutally honest and say that even though I know I will be OK either way, by the grace of God, this wait, this not knowing, is torture. Every day I look for blood. Every time I'm not nauseous I worry. Every time I'm too nauseous I worry. I can't think about November or birth or feeling baby kick or newborn diapers or bringing up the maternity clothes or asking my neighbor for my arm's reach cosleeper back, because I don't believe any of it will be necessary/will happen.
If it weren't for Anastasia's death, I might not feel this way, but when a pregnancy is going textbook and one day, at 12 weeks for no apparent reason your baby dies...well, life doesn't feel like black and white anymore. Life in the womb seems like this grey area that can just slip away at any given moment. I suppose this is plenty true of life on earth too, but at least on earth we can usually point to a cause.
Back when I had my ultrasound with Anastasia we thought we had evidence of something drastically wrong with her. If you look back at my post around Feb 6 of 2013 where I show the ultrasound picture there was what looked like a "bubble" coming off of her head. The ultrasound tech assumed it was a head malformation that had caused her death. But when she was born, there was no sign of it and her head and face were perfect. We think whatever we saw was probably remaining yolk sac instead of a malformation.
I don't know how long Genesis will be with us. I don't know if her earthly life will only exist in the womb. I know no matter what I love and adore this child and am blessed beyond words to be this child's mother and protector for now. But this waiting time in pregnancy reminds me of what it's like to be stuck in grief.
I don't want to be here, but sometimes in life we have no choice. We don't choose grief and loss and death, it is simply the reality of existence in a fallen world. We cannot lift ourselves out of grief. We cannot choose for it to end. Only God, only our Lord Jesus Christ can lift us up in due time. In His time. And that is good. So very good. These inner workings in my body are not mine to know for now. They are Christ's.
So here I am. I'm in this strange existence between joy and grief. On the one hand I still miss my babies in heaven dreadfully and cry for the children that have all been housed in my body the past year. On the other, I think about this child that might still be alive in my womb right now, maybe even starting to move those tiny hand and feet plates that should be forming, and I smile a private small smile and pray so fervently for this child. I read God's Word out loud and sing God's hymns and read the Catechism out loud and receive God's body and blood, but then I must wait. Even if I had an ultrasound every week that doesn't mean that a day later my baby wouldn't die. So, I must just wait. And wait. And pray the day will come that I can actually feel this baby kicking and squirming inside of me. But then there's always still waiting and praying. And even if this child is granted an earthly life, there is still waiting and praying as the child grows and changes and lives.
Whether or not I parent this child here, the reality is, these children belong to the Lord. This is the walk we are called to as parents, as humans. We are not our own, we are the Lord's, as are our children, and so we wait. We wait and pray and keep our eyes on the horizon. He IS coming back. So in the mean time we muddle through as best we can. Our lives may be full of weeping and mourning, laughter and play, feasting and fasting, rest and sleeplessness, illness and health, isolation and company. We, by the grace of God, take it as it comes, do our best to strengthen our weak knees for this walk, but know all along that Christ goes before us, behind us, and within us.
O Little Flock, fear not the foe,
Who madly seeks your overthrow,
Dread not his rage and power,
and though your courage sometimes faints,
his seeming triumph o'er God's saints,
lasts but a little hour.
As true as God's own Word is true,
Not earth nor hell's satanic crew,
against us shall prevail,
their might? A joke, a mere facade!
God is with us, and we with God,
our victory cannot fail. (LSB vs 1,3 #666)
Christ keep us.
The New Testament reading was the raising of Lazarus. Enter more tears.
It's strange being in the season of Lent at a different time of the year because I will always associate Lent now with finding out our baby was dead right before Ash Wednesday and then going through the first week of Lent plus a little of the next waiting to birth her, and then giving birth and waiting the rest of Lent to be able to bury her body because the ground was frozen. Now I'm in the season again but of course past all the dates of those events. Instead of being so close to Easter and finally being able to put flowers on my baby's grave, I'm waiting for the week after Easter when we are hoping to hear a heart beat on doppler. It was that 12 week appointment with our Anastasia where the doppler gave us nothing but stark silence.
It's an agonizing wait. I'll be brutally honest and say that even though I know I will be OK either way, by the grace of God, this wait, this not knowing, is torture. Every day I look for blood. Every time I'm not nauseous I worry. Every time I'm too nauseous I worry. I can't think about November or birth or feeling baby kick or newborn diapers or bringing up the maternity clothes or asking my neighbor for my arm's reach cosleeper back, because I don't believe any of it will be necessary/will happen.
If it weren't for Anastasia's death, I might not feel this way, but when a pregnancy is going textbook and one day, at 12 weeks for no apparent reason your baby dies...well, life doesn't feel like black and white anymore. Life in the womb seems like this grey area that can just slip away at any given moment. I suppose this is plenty true of life on earth too, but at least on earth we can usually point to a cause.
Back when I had my ultrasound with Anastasia we thought we had evidence of something drastically wrong with her. If you look back at my post around Feb 6 of 2013 where I show the ultrasound picture there was what looked like a "bubble" coming off of her head. The ultrasound tech assumed it was a head malformation that had caused her death. But when she was born, there was no sign of it and her head and face were perfect. We think whatever we saw was probably remaining yolk sac instead of a malformation.
I don't know how long Genesis will be with us. I don't know if her earthly life will only exist in the womb. I know no matter what I love and adore this child and am blessed beyond words to be this child's mother and protector for now. But this waiting time in pregnancy reminds me of what it's like to be stuck in grief.
I don't want to be here, but sometimes in life we have no choice. We don't choose grief and loss and death, it is simply the reality of existence in a fallen world. We cannot lift ourselves out of grief. We cannot choose for it to end. Only God, only our Lord Jesus Christ can lift us up in due time. In His time. And that is good. So very good. These inner workings in my body are not mine to know for now. They are Christ's.
So here I am. I'm in this strange existence between joy and grief. On the one hand I still miss my babies in heaven dreadfully and cry for the children that have all been housed in my body the past year. On the other, I think about this child that might still be alive in my womb right now, maybe even starting to move those tiny hand and feet plates that should be forming, and I smile a private small smile and pray so fervently for this child. I read God's Word out loud and sing God's hymns and read the Catechism out loud and receive God's body and blood, but then I must wait. Even if I had an ultrasound every week that doesn't mean that a day later my baby wouldn't die. So, I must just wait. And wait. And pray the day will come that I can actually feel this baby kicking and squirming inside of me. But then there's always still waiting and praying. And even if this child is granted an earthly life, there is still waiting and praying as the child grows and changes and lives.
Whether or not I parent this child here, the reality is, these children belong to the Lord. This is the walk we are called to as parents, as humans. We are not our own, we are the Lord's, as are our children, and so we wait. We wait and pray and keep our eyes on the horizon. He IS coming back. So in the mean time we muddle through as best we can. Our lives may be full of weeping and mourning, laughter and play, feasting and fasting, rest and sleeplessness, illness and health, isolation and company. We, by the grace of God, take it as it comes, do our best to strengthen our weak knees for this walk, but know all along that Christ goes before us, behind us, and within us.
O Little Flock, fear not the foe,
Who madly seeks your overthrow,
Dread not his rage and power,
and though your courage sometimes faints,
his seeming triumph o'er God's saints,
lasts but a little hour.
As true as God's own Word is true,
Not earth nor hell's satanic crew,
against us shall prevail,
their might? A joke, a mere facade!
God is with us, and we with God,
our victory cannot fail. (LSB vs 1,3 #666)
Christ keep us.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
During times of immense suffering and cross-bearing, it is far too easy to become trapped inside your own mind. Think of when you first feel a cold coming on. You notice it and think to yourself the things you should be doing to make sure it doesn't get out of hand. But by and large you are able to move outside of your suffering and go about the world around you. But then by the time the cold has progressed into that awful sensation of having rubber cement jammed into your sinuses and swallowing razor blades while fighting a terrible fever and aches, well, you are FORCED to fall away from the rest of the world and in on you and only you. The rest of the world falls away and in desperation your mind goes nuts for relief.
Now imagine if during this time you decided to do some soul searching. Here are the things you might soul search about: Were you eating well enough to begin with? Were you getting enough rest? Did you expose yourself to an illness you could have avoided?
Now imagine if this was your 6th illness in a short period of time. Here are some questions that might follow then: (All of the above), Are you trying to be super woman in your life? Are you trying to prove something by over exerting yourself? What law are you fulfilling by working yourself to the point of illness?
But, of course, there's something wrong with this picture to the point of humor. First, none of the above may be true but observers may think they are simply because of your symptoms and your inability to speak clearly in your illness. But second, have you ever seen someone drastically ill with fever, searing pain, and the inability to breathe have the energy and/or ability to think these questions let alone have the power to comprehend them? No?
Neither do the suffering.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Repost
I came across a post tonight that I'm so glad I wrote last July because it really gave me the kick in the pants I needed tonight. Sometimes it's so easy to fall into the pit of self pity when you just wish someone, anyone, could take away the hell of repeated death or destruction or pain in your face. So here it is again:
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.
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.
Friday, February 14, 2014
You're going to miss this
Anyone who has ever been a parent has almost certainly been met with the words "You're going to miss this." Another similar sentiment is, "Enjoy it, because it will be gone so quickly." But I want to give you a whole new sentiment to focus on that has ended that nonsense once and for all.
You are not going to miss this. Well, MAYBE you will, but you do not have to, because THIS is broken. This is sinful. This is fallen. And friends, what is to come is so, SO much better.
No one looks at a laboring woman and tells her, "Quick! Enjoy this! It will be over so soon!" No one wags their finger at her in her suffering and says, "You better wake up and enjoy this because it will be over and then you will never get it back!"
I do NOT miss labor. I will NEVER miss labor. Yes, I am so thankful I was able to give birth to my children, that God fearfully and wonderfully made my body in a way to be able to do that, and that, mercifully, I survived each birth even with varying degrees of serious injury.
All of life is afflicted by birth pains of sin and death. We are in labor for this life that is going to end and like a laboring woman we know not how long it will last, nor how severe the contractions will be. And then, once and for all, all of the pain and brokenness will be over and...
We will never have to miss anything ever again, because forever, for all of eternity, we will be in peace and joy and communion with one another.
Don't miss this, look forward to when you will have it all, again, but perfect and forever.
A dear friend of mine who has been sitting in the pit with me while I mourn, grieve, and grapple with my broken reality was dreaming on the day she will be in her mansion in heaven with all her beloved children, including her sweet baby who already waits for her, and was saying how cool it will be to say, "Hey everyone, I'm going to Grandma's house, and I'll be back in a few hundred years." And everyone will shout their goodbyes or maybe decide to walk along, but there will be no sadness because we are all always in communion and never in sickness or death or loss ever again.
Don't add to your grief or anyone's grief by telling them to cling to something they cannot keep and don't really want to anyways. Instead, add to their joy by telling them that when this imperfect version fades away, they WILL GET IT BACK, but this time, PERFECTED!
You will get it back.
Christ is coming as He said.
And, as another friend shared with me, when we're grieving and lost and alone, "we get up and drag ourselves into the kitchen, put on a cup of tea, and when it's warm enough we go sit outside in a lawn chair and pretend we're watching our kids play, when really we're looking for something over their heads on the horizon - - it is there within us and yet a long way still off."
Christ keep us. Come Soon Lord Jesus.
You are not going to miss this. Well, MAYBE you will, but you do not have to, because THIS is broken. This is sinful. This is fallen. And friends, what is to come is so, SO much better.
No one looks at a laboring woman and tells her, "Quick! Enjoy this! It will be over so soon!" No one wags their finger at her in her suffering and says, "You better wake up and enjoy this because it will be over and then you will never get it back!"
I do NOT miss labor. I will NEVER miss labor. Yes, I am so thankful I was able to give birth to my children, that God fearfully and wonderfully made my body in a way to be able to do that, and that, mercifully, I survived each birth even with varying degrees of serious injury.
All of life is afflicted by birth pains of sin and death. We are in labor for this life that is going to end and like a laboring woman we know not how long it will last, nor how severe the contractions will be. And then, once and for all, all of the pain and brokenness will be over and...
We will never have to miss anything ever again, because forever, for all of eternity, we will be in peace and joy and communion with one another.
Don't miss this, look forward to when you will have it all, again, but perfect and forever.
A dear friend of mine who has been sitting in the pit with me while I mourn, grieve, and grapple with my broken reality was dreaming on the day she will be in her mansion in heaven with all her beloved children, including her sweet baby who already waits for her, and was saying how cool it will be to say, "Hey everyone, I'm going to Grandma's house, and I'll be back in a few hundred years." And everyone will shout their goodbyes or maybe decide to walk along, but there will be no sadness because we are all always in communion and never in sickness or death or loss ever again.
Don't add to your grief or anyone's grief by telling them to cling to something they cannot keep and don't really want to anyways. Instead, add to their joy by telling them that when this imperfect version fades away, they WILL GET IT BACK, but this time, PERFECTED!
You will get it back.
Christ is coming as He said.
And, as another friend shared with me, when we're grieving and lost and alone, "we get up and drag ourselves into the kitchen, put on a cup of tea, and when it's warm enough we go sit outside in a lawn chair and pretend we're watching our kids play, when really we're looking for something over their heads on the horizon - - it is there within us and yet a long way still off."
Christ keep us. Come Soon Lord Jesus.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Self made prison
I'm in this awful place right now where I don't want to receive comfort from anyone. It's selfish and stupid and it makes me tired of myself. I want to tell myself to shut up and hop to it. I wish my Dad was around to give me a "kick in the pants".
I want to be angry. I want to grieve until I have nothing left and am just a heap on the floor. And, dude, we should totally go back to those days where it's normal to tear your clothes when you're shocked and grieving. I bet that felt good.
I don't know what to do. I don't know if this is ever going to stop. I want to despair and see if He will come for me.
But all of that is just selfishness. So I get up, make my bed, and hop to it.
Spring is coming. Even in the pit of grief, it is coming.
I want to be angry. I want to grieve until I have nothing left and am just a heap on the floor. And, dude, we should totally go back to those days where it's normal to tear your clothes when you're shocked and grieving. I bet that felt good.
I don't know what to do. I don't know if this is ever going to stop. I want to despair and see if He will come for me.
But all of that is just selfishness. So I get up, make my bed, and hop to it.
Spring is coming. Even in the pit of grief, it is coming.
photo credit: me
Saturday, February 8, 2014
The empty spot of darkness
Sometimes there are not words powerful enough to convey the anger, the fury, and the brokenness of death. And I've learned that death is always grotesque. Always.
And sometimes there is so much anger that it seems imperative to isolate oneself because you are certain there is no one that can possibly give enough care to your grief and the loss you have suffered without making you feel even angrier.
When my Dad died one of the most prominent places where his loss was felt head on was at the dinner table. I actually had to move his chair away, sit in it myself, or avoid the table all together to get through that emptiness of having the head of our home vanish before our eyes. But many times I was overcome with anger as I sat there staring at the emptiness. Even now, thinking about that empty chair and the absence of the person that I still so desperately needed, I can't help but feel like throwing something. What made me angriest was all the people that were friends with my Dad and how sad they would act around us to lose him, and they were sad, but then they would go home to their houses and their families and sit at their tables while we sat at ours, the only ones that had to face the loss constantly in our faces. It wasn't fair.
This is the side of grief that hurts the worst because it's not justified. And I wish it was. Anger is not justified because death is what we all deserve. I want to scream and break things and tell God it's not fair, ask Him to intervene, to help, to have mercy, to end this madness. But He has not. And I know what His answer would be. "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?"
For 10 days I walked around with a dead body inside of me. Unless you have experienced that, there is no way you can possibly understand what it feels like to have your body betray you and not be able to keep your precious baby alive. Sometimes having my womb turn into a house of death made me physically ill. It still does. The desperation and the plea of begging God to raise that baby back to life only to have my body so grotesquely expel my child 10 days later.
And for a year now I've been trapped in this hell. On the one hand I have my amazing husband and my 4 amazing children. A part of me wishes I could erase the last year. I wish I could erase it. What if I was like other people that have a few kids and decide to "be done"? What if, like we were tempted to do when our 4th was a baby, we had decided to stop having kids? I wonder what I would be doing now. I wonder how my life would be different if I had chosen the 4 I had and decided to just live. Obviously I would still be caring for my 4 children and home schooling, but what would I be thinking about? What project would I be excited about? What would my plans for this year and the next be? Instead of thinking about blood tests and whether I will conceive next month, what would my focus be?
And sometimes I'm just tired. I just want to be done. I want to forget the hell of pushing out a dead baby. I want to forget the nightmare of being told that my second child of the year was being murdered by a giant hematoma attached to his placenta. I want to forget watching his heart trying so hard to beat. I want to forget the Doctor offering to do a D&C on a living baby to spare him the suffering he was going through that was killing him. I want to forget the two weeks that I, again, pleaded for a life of another child. I want to forget standing in the grocery store when my cell phone rang and my Doctor told me, shouting, that we had "gotten our miracle". My baby, Amadeus, had been two weeks behind in development when I went in at 8 weeks for an ultrasound due to a spontaneous hemorrhage because a giant hematoma attached to his placenta was taking blood that should have been going to him. But two weeks later some labs showed that my hcg had skyrocketed as had my progesterone. My Doctor was certain the hematoma had reabsorbed and that my baby was just fine. I laughed and cried and shouted right there in the store. My baby was going to live. I was so certain everything was fine that I went to my ultrasound alone a couple days later. God had given us our miracle, healing! When the screen lit up I nearly stopped breathing. There in front of me was what looked like not one, but two sacs. Dear Lord, did we miss a baby behind that hematoma?! The ultrasound tech told me she needed to switch to an internal ultrasound to get a better look but that it looked like we were looking at twins. I went to the bathroom and for 5 minutes I thought I not only had one living baby, but two.
The ultrasound screen lit up but I could not see it. She was at my feet and needed to have the screen near her. She was far too quiet for far too long. Finally I said, "There's not two is there?"
"No."
"Is there one baby?"
"Yes."
"Is he alive?"
"No honey, he's not."
Instead, what looked like a second large sac where a baby would be, I had a hematoma that had grown so much that it had fooled my body into thinking I was still pregnant. The hematoma was so big we thought it was another sac. And because it was filled with "debris" it looked like it held a baby inside. The hematoma had become a giant leech. We finally found the baby and he looked like a swollen grape. There was no form to him at all. Just a dead heart.
6 weeks later I got another phone call. This time while on vacation. Our next baby was dead. I had to miscarry that baby while I was supposed to be enjoying jet skis with my kids and husband on the beach.
4 weeks after that I watched 4 positive pregnancy tests turn to negatives before I had even called my doctor.
And now, 4 weeks ago I watched the same thing.
I want to always be an example of faith, of courage and of trust in my loving Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Because I know He is love. I know He is mercy. I know He is truth. I know this was never His plan. And I know God is not to blame, but that wretched enemy of life and the stain of sin on all of us. That is the devil's trick, to turn the finger at God. To make us hate God. To make us take things in our own hands because we think things are better in our hands than in God's. Thanks be to God the Holy Spirit intervenes and protects us from ourselves.
But my heart is tired, broken, despairing, and angry. And so I pray, as my Daddy taught me, "Lord I believe, help me with my unbelief." And, "Lord, have mercy, please lift me up in due time."
And some how I breathe through one moment to the next. God have mercy.
And sometimes there is so much anger that it seems imperative to isolate oneself because you are certain there is no one that can possibly give enough care to your grief and the loss you have suffered without making you feel even angrier.
what was left of My Dad's plane
When my Dad died one of the most prominent places where his loss was felt head on was at the dinner table. I actually had to move his chair away, sit in it myself, or avoid the table all together to get through that emptiness of having the head of our home vanish before our eyes. But many times I was overcome with anger as I sat there staring at the emptiness. Even now, thinking about that empty chair and the absence of the person that I still so desperately needed, I can't help but feel like throwing something. What made me angriest was all the people that were friends with my Dad and how sad they would act around us to lose him, and they were sad, but then they would go home to their houses and their families and sit at their tables while we sat at ours, the only ones that had to face the loss constantly in our faces. It wasn't fair.
This is the side of grief that hurts the worst because it's not justified. And I wish it was. Anger is not justified because death is what we all deserve. I want to scream and break things and tell God it's not fair, ask Him to intervene, to help, to have mercy, to end this madness. But He has not. And I know what His answer would be. "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?"
For 10 days I walked around with a dead body inside of me. Unless you have experienced that, there is no way you can possibly understand what it feels like to have your body betray you and not be able to keep your precious baby alive. Sometimes having my womb turn into a house of death made me physically ill. It still does. The desperation and the plea of begging God to raise that baby back to life only to have my body so grotesquely expel my child 10 days later.
And for a year now I've been trapped in this hell. On the one hand I have my amazing husband and my 4 amazing children. A part of me wishes I could erase the last year. I wish I could erase it. What if I was like other people that have a few kids and decide to "be done"? What if, like we were tempted to do when our 4th was a baby, we had decided to stop having kids? I wonder what I would be doing now. I wonder how my life would be different if I had chosen the 4 I had and decided to just live. Obviously I would still be caring for my 4 children and home schooling, but what would I be thinking about? What project would I be excited about? What would my plans for this year and the next be? Instead of thinking about blood tests and whether I will conceive next month, what would my focus be?
And sometimes I'm just tired. I just want to be done. I want to forget the hell of pushing out a dead baby. I want to forget the nightmare of being told that my second child of the year was being murdered by a giant hematoma attached to his placenta. I want to forget watching his heart trying so hard to beat. I want to forget the Doctor offering to do a D&C on a living baby to spare him the suffering he was going through that was killing him. I want to forget the two weeks that I, again, pleaded for a life of another child. I want to forget standing in the grocery store when my cell phone rang and my Doctor told me, shouting, that we had "gotten our miracle". My baby, Amadeus, had been two weeks behind in development when I went in at 8 weeks for an ultrasound due to a spontaneous hemorrhage because a giant hematoma attached to his placenta was taking blood that should have been going to him. But two weeks later some labs showed that my hcg had skyrocketed as had my progesterone. My Doctor was certain the hematoma had reabsorbed and that my baby was just fine. I laughed and cried and shouted right there in the store. My baby was going to live. I was so certain everything was fine that I went to my ultrasound alone a couple days later. God had given us our miracle, healing! When the screen lit up I nearly stopped breathing. There in front of me was what looked like not one, but two sacs. Dear Lord, did we miss a baby behind that hematoma?! The ultrasound tech told me she needed to switch to an internal ultrasound to get a better look but that it looked like we were looking at twins. I went to the bathroom and for 5 minutes I thought I not only had one living baby, but two.
The ultrasound screen lit up but I could not see it. She was at my feet and needed to have the screen near her. She was far too quiet for far too long. Finally I said, "There's not two is there?"
"No."
"Is there one baby?"
"Yes."
"Is he alive?"
"No honey, he's not."
Instead, what looked like a second large sac where a baby would be, I had a hematoma that had grown so much that it had fooled my body into thinking I was still pregnant. The hematoma was so big we thought it was another sac. And because it was filled with "debris" it looked like it held a baby inside. The hematoma had become a giant leech. We finally found the baby and he looked like a swollen grape. There was no form to him at all. Just a dead heart.
6 weeks later I got another phone call. This time while on vacation. Our next baby was dead. I had to miscarry that baby while I was supposed to be enjoying jet skis with my kids and husband on the beach.
4 weeks after that I watched 4 positive pregnancy tests turn to negatives before I had even called my doctor.
And now, 4 weeks ago I watched the same thing.
I want to always be an example of faith, of courage and of trust in my loving Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Because I know He is love. I know He is mercy. I know He is truth. I know this was never His plan. And I know God is not to blame, but that wretched enemy of life and the stain of sin on all of us. That is the devil's trick, to turn the finger at God. To make us hate God. To make us take things in our own hands because we think things are better in our hands than in God's. Thanks be to God the Holy Spirit intervenes and protects us from ourselves.
But my heart is tired, broken, despairing, and angry. And so I pray, as my Daddy taught me, "Lord I believe, help me with my unbelief." And, "Lord, have mercy, please lift me up in due time."
And some how I breathe through one moment to the next. God have mercy.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
The only thing
“May the peace of God be with you," she says, her voice low, "even in the midst of trouble."
"Why would it?" I say softly, so no one else can hear. "After all I've done..."
"It isn't about you," she says. "It is a gift. You cannot earn it, or it ceases to be a gift.”
― Veronica Roth, Insurgent
At first glance this quote, from the second book of the Divergent series, seems simple enough. But in order to realize that it isn't you have to know the character who questions God's love. Tris, a young girl of 16, is a pro at trapping herself inside her own emotions and assuming that the world plays out accordingly.
There are many emotions that come when you have to step away and realize that God is not controlled by your emotions or your intentions or your desires. He is not a product of those things; He is not encouraged by them. He is not threatened by them. He is not defined by them. He is above them and before them.
You cannot control God. You cannot get what you want from Him by wanting it bad enough or crying for it enough or being broken enough. You cannot mimic people of the Scriptures and assume that the reason things played out for them the way they did is because of their actions or lack thereof.
The only thing you can do, THE ONLY THING, is die completely to yourself and then trust. And the only way these two things will happen is by the grace and mercy of God, of His own accord.
But the good news is, this God man, the one who is not motivated or controlled by your emotions or desires, well, He is the one who did this:
"Why would it?" I say softly, so no one else can hear. "After all I've done..."
"It isn't about you," she says. "It is a gift. You cannot earn it, or it ceases to be a gift.”
― Veronica Roth, Insurgent
At first glance this quote, from the second book of the Divergent series, seems simple enough. But in order to realize that it isn't you have to know the character who questions God's love. Tris, a young girl of 16, is a pro at trapping herself inside her own emotions and assuming that the world plays out accordingly.
There are many emotions that come when you have to step away and realize that God is not controlled by your emotions or your intentions or your desires. He is not a product of those things; He is not encouraged by them. He is not threatened by them. He is not defined by them. He is above them and before them.
You cannot control God. You cannot get what you want from Him by wanting it bad enough or crying for it enough or being broken enough. You cannot mimic people of the Scriptures and assume that the reason things played out for them the way they did is because of their actions or lack thereof.
The only thing you can do, THE ONLY THING, is die completely to yourself and then trust. And the only way these two things will happen is by the grace and mercy of God, of His own accord.
But the good news is, this God man, the one who is not motivated or controlled by your emotions or desires, well, He is the one who did this:
And He loves you with an everlasting love. Always. Always and forever. And though we flail like pathetic helpless children, still He loves us and somehow He saves us from ourselves.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Here I Stand, I Can Do No Other.
Note: There is an image of our 12 week little one further down in this post if you are sensitive to such imagery.
Feb. 6, 2013:
Everything about what my husband and I are going through appears as absolute foolishness. Why subject yourself to loss, death, and affliction of your own health over and over? But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. You look at me and you don't understand the fuss. And fine, crazy lady, if you want to keep bringing this on yourself, at least keep it quiet or at least figure out how to not grieve over it.
But as long as the Lord gives, I will receive. As long as my babies fall to their death so young due to sin, I will weep. I will fast. I will pray. I will be broken. Because in my brokenness I make confession of faith, of life, and of truth. God is truth. And He creates, He speaks, and darkness gets broke and there is life where there was none. And every day it will make me angrier towards sin and murder and idolatry. Read the articles above and you will understand my fury.
Thursday I had my apt with my OB. If you know me well you know how hard that day was for me. This appointment signaled a last resort. The last leaf left unturned. I don't easily put my care into the hands of another. I am VERY possessive of me. But we are desperate to do everything humanly possible to "help and support our neighbor in every physical need". At first all of these tests were extreme and a burden too great to bear but now it was time.
photo credit: Me. :)
Friends, family, and strangers. I know sin is always present. And where there is sin, there is death. Period. But 55 MILLION lives viciously murdered from their mother's wombs is a WHOLE. NEW. LOW.
I am angry. I AM FURIOUS. And this anger has me planted stubbornly in place.
Feb. 6, 2013:
The jelly felt warm on my tummy. This surprised me. It’s normally so cold. I was about to tell the ultrasound tech this but she was beginning to spread the jelly with the wand and I held my breath. With a simple move she was turned and the screen was coming to life. I was so thankful that she did not turn the screen away from me to start like they normally do. I was already grieving and she knew it...there was nothing that needed to be kept from me. My breath caught in my throat as the most delicate sweet little hand caught my eye. It was reaching up to heaven. In my mind I reached down and held her sweet hand. My thumb rubbed the inside of her palm. I heard the ultrasound tech begin by exclaiming how perfect my baby was, after all her size was right on, and I waited still admiring my baby’s beautiful hand for her to realize what I already knew. No 12 week baby has a hand floating in the water above her head. The u.t. stopped mid sentence. She zoomed in on my baby’s chest. Our eyes met. I smiled weakly at her. “There’s no heartbeat is there?” I turned my eyes back to my baby as her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t understand, this baby is so big, I thought...” I saw my baby’s face for the first time. That sweet nose, turned up just the slightest bit. “Sweet baby. My sweet baby. You’re so beautiful.” I reached for the screen and gently touched her. Her little hand was still reaching up to me. “My precious baby.”
I looked at the u.t. “I’m sorry, I’m OK.” She looked at me. “Sweetheart, this baby just died...maybe two days ago. It just doesn’t make sense.” We both looked back to the baby. Time stood still. It was just me and my baby. I don’t remember the screen going dark. I asked her if I could call my husband and she left. My husband’s voice filled my phone, “Hey” I said. “Our baby is gone. Our baby is dead.” I was sobbing. His voice was broken. He was making his way into the hospital. We went back and forth, he tried to offer words of comfort while we both shattered to pieces. I instructed him how to find me and we hung up.
I began by sending out a text to all my family and friends. “We just found out that our baby has gone home to be with Jesus. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Within seconds my phone was beeping responses and ringing. I spoke to my sister. As I hung up the door opened and the u.t. moved aside for my husband to enter. She left us. I was on my feet and his arms took me in. My weeping made no sound but turned my soul inside out. His arms were strong but weak. It was as if our one flesh was melting together into a pool of wax. Finally he asked if he could pray. I don’t remember the words he prayed. We prayed tears. We prayed brokenness. We cried for sin and its effects. Our one flesh had met face to face the wages of sin, but it’s toll was on our dear child. The u.t came back in the room. She looked at us hugging, cleared her throat and said, “I, um, need to take more pictures.” I thought, “No you don’t , you took 500!” Then her eyes met mine and I silently thanked her. She was trying to give us a gift, a chance to see our baby together and my husband’s first chance. I climbed back on the table and my husband took my hand. I could feel his prayer in his increasing grip on my hand even though his lips weren’t moving. Raise our baby Lord. I let him pray but blocked it from my hearing. Our baby was gone. I looked on the screen to where I would see her floating hand and it met my eyes. “Sweet baby.” I held her hand. We were three silent observers to the tiniest miracle of God. Time stood still as we all sat in awe.
For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. 19 For it is written,
20 Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?21 For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe. 22 For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, 23 but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, 24 but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.
26 For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. 27 But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; 28 God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, 29 so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. 30 And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, 31 so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”
But as long as the Lord gives, I will receive. As long as my babies fall to their death so young due to sin, I will weep. I will fast. I will pray. I will be broken. Because in my brokenness I make confession of faith, of life, and of truth. God is truth. And He creates, He speaks, and darkness gets broke and there is life where there was none. And every day it will make me angrier towards sin and murder and idolatry. Read the articles above and you will understand my fury.
My babies, these children who do not know that I already have 4 earthly children, are just as fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God as our earthly children and are just as important as if they were my first. And while people rave and weep happy tears over families murdering innocent lives, they can't believe it when a woman will willingly endure month after month of miscarriage seemingly to her own detriment.
Crosses are not chosen. They are given. I have prayed, I have fasted, I have wept until I've thrown up. I have soaked my bed with tears and clung to the Word of God with the only breath I had left. After all, crosses often have the effect of making your idols crash down and shatter all around you, which is always painful to the point of near despair. And still He has not taken this cup from me. And just when I start to feel burdened to the point of surrender to my flesh where I can choose to put an end to increasing my grief and choose instead to just rest, I see another article like the two first posted and my resolve comes back ten fold.
God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong. And thanks be to God alone, so have my husband and I.
Crosses are not chosen. They are given. I have prayed, I have fasted, I have wept until I've thrown up. I have soaked my bed with tears and clung to the Word of God with the only breath I had left. After all, crosses often have the effect of making your idols crash down and shatter all around you, which is always painful to the point of near despair. And still He has not taken this cup from me. And just when I start to feel burdened to the point of surrender to my flesh where I can choose to put an end to increasing my grief and choose instead to just rest, I see another article like the two first posted and my resolve comes back ten fold.
God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong. And thanks be to God alone, so have my husband and I.
Right now we are wading through the choices of tests that have been ordered for two weeks from now, assuming pregnancy does not occur. In the mean time we are going to be using a high dose of progesterone from ovulation on to support my body and any potential lives. If pregnancy does not occur I will discontinue the progesterone until I ovulate again. The doctor wants us to do all sorts of tests on me but also on my husband's and my genetics. We are praying and talking to decide which of these, if any, we will be able to do. But in the mean time, there is plenty of joy around here too. Plenty of joy, plenty of laughter, and plenty of carefree moments of pure bliss.
Christ has died. Christ is Risen. Christ will come again.
Christ has died. Christ is Risen. Christ will come again.
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