Write Your story

Lately there have been lots of cuddling and rocking with Shepherd. It's sweet and I love it. I soak up every moment. His smell.  His breathing. His growing legs wrapped around me. I gently cover his little head with kisses being oh so careful to not wake him. And as I sit there, so thankful for his life and his presence in our family, I can't help but ache for the child we never got to hold. It's a bitter sweet moment as I rock my youngest son and wonder about my middle child. For some reason I think she was a girl.  I probably would have named her Corrie Elizabeth after my favorite sisters Corrie and Betsy ten Boom. I wonder about her, mourn her absence from our family, and rest in the hope of Heaven and seeing her for the first time.

I don't want to forget my miscarriage because I don't want to forget my middle child. But how to you close that chapter of pain and loss without forgetting it's story?  I'm not quite sure, but I think it's by knowing and trusting the Author. He's written my story. And it might have some pain and tears, but there is more there too.  There is joy, even in the tears.  There is hope. There is peace.  Knowing the Author and how my story ends makes it a story worth living.

I wrote most of this post sitting under a blow dryer getting my hair did.  I didn't want to read the fashion magazines, so I wrote this.  Somehow I made it through without sobbing, and got in my car. I turn on the radio and what do I hear? I hear God. I hear him confirming that he's a good Author and to trust Him with my story.  I've never heard this song before, but when I turned on my radio I heard a Francesca Battestelli song "Write Your Story".  It was perfect timing, the providence of God.

They say
You're the King of everything
The One who taught the wind to sing
The Source of the rhythm my heart keeps beating

They say
You can give the blind their sight
And You can bring the dead to life
You can be the hope my soul's been seekin'

I wanna tell You now that I believe it
I wanna tell You now that I believe it
I do, that You can make me new, oh

I'm an empty page
I'm an open book
Write Your story on my heart
Come on and make Your mark

Author of my hope
Maker of the stars
Let me be Your work of art
Won't You write Your story on my heart

Write Your story, write Your story
Come on and write Your story, write Your story
Won't You write Your story on my heart

My Life
I know it's never really been mine
So do with it whatever You like
I don't know what Your plan is
But I know it's good, yeah

I wanna tell You now that I believe in
I wanna tell You now that I believe in
In You, so do what You do, oh

I'm an empty page
I'm an open book
Write Your story on my heart
Come on and make Your mark

 Author of my hope
Maker of the stars
Let me be Your work of art
Won't You write Your story on my heart

 
I want my history
To be Your legacy
Go ahead and show this world
What You've done in me
And when the music fades
I want my life to say

I let You write your story, write Your story
Write Your story, write Your story

And so I guess that's what this blog is.  It is me, telling people of God writing my story.  The story or redemption. The story of hope.  Because that's the story he has written on my heart. He is faithful even when I am not. There is hope because of Christ.  I pray I never tire of telling His Story. 

Happy Birthday

Today would have been our little ones first birthday. I don't want to ignore it. I want to celebrate. Even though I only carried her for a few days, her short life impacted mine greatly.  I learned that I really can trust God and what that looks like. I saw how each life no matter how old it is matters. I was able to see a sweet tender side of my savior. My heart has changed from only just a few short days knowing her. I'm not happy I miscarried, but I'm thankful that my God is big enough to redeem even death.

Thank you Jesus for this day. While my heart aches her first birthday isn't here with us, I rejoice for the privilege of  carrying your child. I can have joy that her birthdays will be filled with everlasting joy and not the pain and disappointment of this world. Thank you for the blessing of pregnancy. Thank you for my 3 beautiful children. Amen

Joy comes with the mourning.

 "This picture of Jesus welcoming children should be a great hope and comfort for parents who have lost a baby. The image of Jesus holding our miscarried child on his lap in his eternal kingdom awaiting for our day of entrance is the single most comforting image that comes to mind when I ask myself what has happened to the child we lost." Mark Driscoll

I read this and wept in the car this week.  I wept for the baby we lost over a year ago.  This child would be turning 1 next month.  

When we had our miscarriage, I was really sad. I cried for a few days, then kind of just "got over it."  Then when I got pregnant again, almost immediately, I never thought of her again. I was just hoping and praying this pregnancy didn't end the way the previous one did...with empty arms.  I've thought about it here and there, but not too much. I would just think "well, if I didn't have my miscarriage, then Shepherd wouldn't be there." And it seemed weird to be sad for that, I guess.  

Then last week was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.  All day long I saw my friends post about their dear children, they'll never meet this side of Heaven.  I would think about her again, and then just stop doing that.  I didn't realize until I broke reading that article from Mark Driscoll, but I didn't want to think about it.  It was hard and sad.

But his words sank deep into my soul.  My soul needed to mourn.  I needed to cry, and be sad, and call out to God for his comfort.  I needed to imagine our child sitting on Jesus' lap.  Something beautiful happened in my van (and in my heart) that day.  God was showing me to trust him.  Ignoring my miscarriage (and in turn my child) would not bring joy.  Ignoring the pain, does not make it go away.  I thought of the Psalm that says "Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning".  I know the Psalmist wrote "morning" as in, the start of the day. But I think its true with "mourning" too.  

Ignoring my pregnancy, child, and miscarriage does not get rid of the pain. It does not bring joy. In fact, I felt condemnation. What kind of mother ignores her child?  Ignoring my pain robs Jesus of the wonderful gift of redemption.  But acknowledging that the sweet life God created in me, is now with her Heavenly Father. Oh! What beautiful sorrowful joy!  I can be comforted by the God who "sympathizes with my weaknesses". I can have an eternal hope of Heaven.  I can rejoice, as I cry with pain, that this little human will never feel the pains of sin in this world. All she'll know is the sweetness of Jesus Christ.

That night for our bedtime story, God's providence has us read about Heaven in our Jesus Storybook Bible.  (Shameless plug, here. This bible is amazing. Go out and buy it now)

I see a throne. And on the throne is a king. And the King is Jesus.  All around the throne people are bowing down. They are giving him their treasures.  There are loud cheers and clapping, clapping and bright laughter like a thousand waterfalls and everyone bursts our singing a new song... "This is our King! The Lamb who died, so we don't have to--our Rescuer.  All Honor and Glory! Forever and ever".

And the Kind says, "Look! God and his children are together again. No more running away. Or hiding. No more crying or being lonely or afraid.  No more being sick or dying. Because all those things are gone. Yes, they're gone forever.  Everything sad has come untrue.  And see--I have wiped away every tear from every eye!"  And then a deep, beautiful voice that sounded like thunder in the sky says, "Look, I am making everything new!"