I am not looking forward to today. Sitting with a young couple honoring the short life of their teeny tiny baby son born sleeping early and unexpectedly makes my heart and strength deplete. I know that God loves and is gracious beyond what I can recognize in the midst of life's deepest storms. This morning I needed a psalm and a song to meditate and sing inside as my heart hurts for these friends. He heals broken hearts. He strengthens the weak. I know it. I believe it. I long to feel You near today, Father.
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. ~Psalm 34:18
"But as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge: I will tell of all your deeds." ~ Psalm 73:28
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. ~ Matthew 11:28
Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. ~ Psalm 62:8
I'm keeping my eyes on Him even though what's going on around me seems overwhelming at times. May I always be looking for strength, peace, and rest from Him (vertically), instead of making sense of our circumstances through what I can see around me (horizontally).
I believe, God, that you can do the impossible. I know that You have in the past and You will continue to demonstrate Your love and faithfulness in this fallen world for as long as it exists. My heart is open to You as completely as I know how. Change me. Transform me. Empty me of me so that You can do Your work in this world. Fill me. I am not scared of Your plan for me. I am yours.
Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. ~ Psalm 62:8
I'm keeping my eyes on Him even though what's going on around me seems overwhelming at times. May I always be looking for strength, peace, and rest from Him (vertically), instead of making sense of our circumstances through what I can see around me (horizontally).
I believe, God, that you can do the impossible. I know that You have in the past and You will continue to demonstrate Your love and faithfulness in this fallen world for as long as it exists. My heart is open to You as completely as I know how. Change me. Transform me. Empty me of me so that You can do Your work in this world. Fill me. I am not scared of Your plan for me. I am yours.
Friday, November 26, 2010
A Certain Sadness
Children are a gift from God. There is something sacred about the moments when a child is born, especially one of our own. The stories of my children's births are so special and close to my heart. Each was a culmination of anticipation and expectation of "our new family". Many joyful, beautiful moments ... thankful to have my body to myself again, enamored by the little piece of creation in my arms, and occupied by dreams of what the "new family" would look like with this key person in it.
But not all of my births felt that way. It's no secret that we lost Hannah Grace at 16 weeks of pregnancy in January 2007. That day was marked by new pain that is still difficult to describe and feel, helpless trust in our heavenly Father to care for her in a way we never could, and honest questions about what our "new family" would look like withOUT this key person in it. How would her absence change us?
To reminisce, I learned that I was pregnant in 2006 just days before my 32nd birthday and found myself that very weekend at a women's retreat grappling with the reality of a new addition to our family. As I grew comfortable with the idea of three children in three and a half years, I was confident that this little one was uniquely planned by Him. Everything from my obstetrician seemed right on and very comparable with my previous two pregnancies. As the weeks ticked away, we planned our announcement. Over Thanksgiving, our families found out in unique ways. Since we were in the midst of limitations of medical care post-Katrina, our first ultrasound was scheduled for 14 weeks, the day after Christmas. With two exceptionally healthy pregnancies under our belts, "something wrong" wasn't even on our radar. When the ultrasound revealed a certain future death in my womb because of a common genetic abnormality, we were stopped dead in our tracks. God's grace allowed us to wait two more weeks until we would say "good-bye" forever to our teeny-tiny daughter on January 10, 2007.
And so, every year from about October 25 until December 25, I relive the memories and milestones that make up the happiest moments of Hannah as a member of our family. With it comes a certain sadness and wandering thoughts of doubt and wonder, but also a certain affirmation of my complete trust in God ... with all the details of my life including the number in our family and the number of days we enjoy together. Very grateful.
But not all of my births felt that way. It's no secret that we lost Hannah Grace at 16 weeks of pregnancy in January 2007. That day was marked by new pain that is still difficult to describe and feel, helpless trust in our heavenly Father to care for her in a way we never could, and honest questions about what our "new family" would look like withOUT this key person in it. How would her absence change us?
To reminisce, I learned that I was pregnant in 2006 just days before my 32nd birthday and found myself that very weekend at a women's retreat grappling with the reality of a new addition to our family. As I grew comfortable with the idea of three children in three and a half years, I was confident that this little one was uniquely planned by Him. Everything from my obstetrician seemed right on and very comparable with my previous two pregnancies. As the weeks ticked away, we planned our announcement. Over Thanksgiving, our families found out in unique ways. Since we were in the midst of limitations of medical care post-Katrina, our first ultrasound was scheduled for 14 weeks, the day after Christmas. With two exceptionally healthy pregnancies under our belts, "something wrong" wasn't even on our radar. When the ultrasound revealed a certain future death in my womb because of a common genetic abnormality, we were stopped dead in our tracks. God's grace allowed us to wait two more weeks until we would say "good-bye" forever to our teeny-tiny daughter on January 10, 2007.
And so, every year from about October 25 until December 25, I relive the memories and milestones that make up the happiest moments of Hannah as a member of our family. With it comes a certain sadness and wandering thoughts of doubt and wonder, but also a certain affirmation of my complete trust in God ... with all the details of my life including the number in our family and the number of days we enjoy together. Very grateful.
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