I have posted a lot of pictures lately, so I hope you, my dear cyber-friends will bear with some text today! This is an important story for me, and one I feel compelled to share with you in its entirety even though I know it will be long! Read it when you have time- I won’t be offended if you skim!
I haven’t written much about our miscarriage since it happened in April. Of course, anyone who has been in that place knows it wasn’t because it didn’t affect me profoundly. The loss of that little baby and the hopes I had for it was one of the hardest experiences of my life. It brought me to a point of real brokenness- it caused me to reevaluate everything I believed about God- and even some things I didn’t even realize I believed. I wasn’t sure I could believe that God was still good after He let such a bad thing happen to me.
The depth of my pain and my determination that that little baby’s life would make me better and not bitter drove me to seek the Lord with an intensity I have never had. I desperately needed answers- and I found Him more than ready for my questions. It is an amazing testimony of His faithfulness that the very Bible study I happened to be involved in at this critical juncture in my life continually impressed truths about God’s love, His goodness, His provision for our lives. I was desperately sad at many points on that dark road- but I was never alone. I know that in the moments I could not even find the strength for the next step that He carried me. He cried with me over the loss of that baby, held me in His arms while I beat my hands against His chest and asked “WHY?”
The songs of Twila Paris have become the “background music” for this season of my life, and one of the songs that has spoken to me most deeply says “He is a light in the deepest shadow, and the wings of a spirit in flight. He is a spring in the dry burning desert, He is a song in the longest night.” I know this now in a way I never could have known before, because I have been there now, sheltered in His arms in my deepest shadow. I know now that even when bad things happen, that He is still good.
I needed to know in a very deep place that God is good, and I certainly found those answers in abundance- but He needed me to know that He is GOD! He knew that what I needed most was to bow my knees and my heart before the One Who made it all, sustains it all, and is worthy of my worship and true surrender.
I think that Psalm 127 was what really brought it all together for me. It says “Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord guards the city, the watchman stays awake in vain.” It was a painful lesson to learn- and one I probably could not have truly accepted if I had not been brought to the end of myself- but God used this passage to bring me to a true, heart acceptance of His job as Master Architect of my “house.” For six months I have tried with everything I had to build my “house” according to my own plans- and ended up completely frustrated, spinning my wheels, and ultimately heartbroken. The Bible study taught me that God has a plan- He isn’t random or capricious, throwing children at some people and denying others randomly- but the same One who created the entire universe cares enough about MY life and my family to have a specific plan for US. Finally, after many tears, I was willing to put down my own blueprint and submit to His, fully expecting several more months of waiting and watching others get what I wanted so desperately.
It is funny how unexpected life is. I can just picture God up there in heaven (now I often picture Him sitting next to a small, remarkably wise-looking child that I know is mine, fully cognizant of all the many answers I still don’t have and watching our family with great interest because he knows we are his family!)- struggling to keep back a smile as only He knew what He had planned next. It was absolutely the last thing I ever expected! Just a few days after I hit a real crux point of surrender and peace… I found myself staring at a pregnancy test that, though faint, most certainly did show two lines! I nearly fell off the toilet in shock!
I’ll admit it- my first thought was “Lord, I CANNOT do this again!” As much as I’d prayed for a baby, finding myself back in that very familiar place so soon after such a devastating loss was really scary. I had to have more lab work done because of what had happened before and the initial numbers were not super reassuring- I have problems with low progesterone and since we weren’t really trying I wasn’t supplementing. The doctor’s office immediately gave me a monstrous dose of progesterone to take, and I had to wait 48 hours to see if the hCG doubled as it is supposed to. I was scared because this is how I found out about the miscarriage I had- instead of doubling, the numbers had halved.
Again, I found solace and answers in my Bible. That day we read Psalm 130 and it said “I wait for the Lord; I wait and I put my hope in His word. I wait for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning… with Him is redemption in abundance.” The thing that struck me is that the watchman waits for the morning without a doubt that it will eventually appear. And I could wait for the Lord with great certainty that He would show up in my life and that He would bring redemption in abundance. I can’t explain it, but a sense of peace swept over me and I knew in my deepest heart that God would take care of this tiny little life just beginning to come to be.
I’ve never really been good at trusting God. I’m far too self-sufficient for my own good. I think part of the reason God allowed me to suffer the way I did was to show me the limits of my self-sufficiency and the infinitely better option of trusting Him to arrange my life. For one of the first times in my life, I consciously chose to trust Him with this tiny little baby just coming to be. I was still frightened, still felt nervous… but underneath it all was that peace I couldn’t deny. And, making a really long story slightly shorter, not only did He double my hCG numbers, He TRIPLED them! It might not be that significant to my doctor, but it was significant to me- I had asked Him for a sign- for Him to show up in my life and show me that He cared for this little one- and He did!
It’s been about a month now since all this has happened. A lot of what I’ve just posted I took in bits and pieces from things I wrote as events were unfolding. I wish I could say that I stayed in this wonderful place of peace and surrender and faith… I haven’t… not completely. It is ironic to me that I would emerge from the darkest valley I have yet walked and suddenly find myself having a mountaintop experience of seeing and experiencing God and His faithfulness in a deeper and more real way than ever before. It’s not how I would have expected the path to turn out. “Life lessons” are funny things- often the learning of them isn’t really like attending a class and passing a test- some “life lessons” are ones that are learned over and over and over throughout the course of life. Trusting God is one of those kinds of lessons for me. I’m embarrassed to say that even with all I’ve seen, I’ve still struggled greatly with anxiety about this pregnancy, and have had to continually pick myself up from the muck of the fears that have weighted me down for years and choose faith even when I don’t feel like it. I don’t always believe all the things I’ve just written. But that doesn’t mean that they aren’t still true whether I live like I believe them or not.
And God continues to be faithful, even when I am not. We have seen the baby’s heartbeat now twice. Once two weeks ago, once last Friday. We are about eight weeks along now, and Lord willing, Carolyn will welcome a brother or sister sometime around February 11, 2009! I am so humbled by the magnitude of His blessings in my life. I don’t deserve this. But I am so thankful that He’s seen fit to send it. I’m excited to share this part of our journey with all of you.
I thought this was a very pretty picture of the place where Granny's earthly body was buried, in full view of the large white cross. I think she would have liked it. The service was very simple, family only, consisting of a short message, some spoken memories, and a series of hymns that were Granny's favorites. I think she would have been pleased with the simplicity and sweetness of it all. At the end, we released some doves as an outward symbol of the inward reality that we celebrated, even as we grieved her loss- that her spirit- the part of her that is really HER, is free, and is even now in glory, fully restored.
Here is a man who knows more than most about loyalty, fidelity, and love: my Papa, who was Granny's husband of 59 years. He truly fulfilled the vows that are so often spoken when we are young and have no idea what the words "in sickness and in health" might come to mean. He loved her deeply and fully throughout her life- both in their years of youth and vitality- and also in these last years when she was slowly taken from us- first in mind, then in body. He cared for her with inspirational gentleness and love. To him, she was no less his wife when she could no longer speak or move; he still lived to love her. He said many times this week with tears in his eyes that this was the first time that she ever cheated on him- he said he was supposed to go first. The hardest part of the whole experience was seeing the depth of his grief- which matches the depth of his love for her. But fortunately for him, he also rests on a solid bedrock of faith, which, when the rest of the world crumbles, remains steady and secure. He knows that day by day the Lord will see him through this, and said so many times. But these days of grief are difficult to be sure, and he surely needs our prayers at this time.
I think this was the best part of the week. Uncle Dave brought along his guitar, and we had an impromptu sing-along. We started with Jimmy Buffet... but soon broke out the old Baptist hymnal and made our way (loudly, not always in key) through many of the old songs Granny loved. We all sang- even Papa! And I for one, found healing for my heart in the words of the songs of Granny's faith-and my own.
Children are a wonderful thing. They bring such simplicity and innocence to occasions like this. Peyton and Carolyn are blissfully unaware and unsullied by the sadder facts of life. Even as we grieved the loss of Granny's life- right in front of us were two young ones, just bursting with the joy of life! They really had a fun time playing together.
The especially enjoyed playing with these little "monsters" (choking hazards!) that belonged to my cousin Cade when he was little. I don't think either one of them had ever been allowed to play with such small things before- and they were just entranced with all the different shapes and colors- and that there were so MANY of them!!
