Friday, November 29, 2013
Cast My Cares
If you need some courage today... and I find myself needing courage often these days, this song has been a true encouragement to me and given me courage to turn to Jesus and tell the truth. If you don't know anything about Tim Timmons, you need to google him and read a little of his story. Then listen to this song again and hear what an amazing testimony it is to the Goodness of God that no matter what your circumstances are - God is faithful.
In the middle of the night
When worry finds me
In the middle of the fight
When strength is gone
In the middle of a fire
When fear is closing in
You are, You are my song
You're my hope, when hope is gone
I will cast my cares on You the almighty
I will cast my cares on You 'cause You're good
I will cast my cares on You 'cause You love me, You love me
Oh, oh because You love me
In the middle of the night
When worry finds me
In the middle of the fight
When strength is gone
In the middle of a fire
When fear is closing in
You are, You are my song
You're my hope, when hope is gone
So I will cast my cares on You the almighty
I will cast my cares on You 'cause You're good
I will cast my cares on You 'cause You love me, You love me
Oh, oh because You love me
Oh, oh because You love me
God of glory
You are able
Through Your power
To be faithful
God of mercy
Every moment
You are near to me
So I will cast my cares on You the almighty
I will cast my cares on You 'cause You're good
I will cast my cares on You 'cause You love me, You love me
Oh, oh because You love me
Oh, oh because You love me
In the middle of the night
I'll pray with confidence
In the middle of the fight
You're greater still
In the middle of a fire
Your love is holding me
You are, You are my song
You're my hope, when hope is gone
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Grief
I have been sitting down to write this and walking away with it incomplete for a few days now. I think I am finally ready to open a window to the grief. Even in my training as a therapist and working with a couple clients who were struggling with bereavement issues of their own, truly nothing equips you to deal with your own tragedy until it mows you down and leaves you breathless. I came across a poem today that I wrote shortly after Haydn was born and somehow it spoke to exactly where I am today.
I need to be reminded
of who You are
of opened hands choosing Your will
the same hands waiting to cradle me still.
Reminded that today is not forever
and that yesterday is not tomorrow.
Reminded that safety is only an illusion
and fear isn't worth the hope that I'm loosing.
Reminded of Your love that is
shiftless and strong.
I cannot change it, deserve it,
only receive it and give it.
I can't seem to forget the fleeting worries of today
which only make Eternity seem further away.
I need to be reminded that the things I forget
are more true and lasting than the things with me yet.
As I have struggled with my grief, I have felt the prayers of many carry me to the Throne and God has been there. It has given me the strength and the courage to resolve to give up any pretense of holiness and just tell Jesus the truth - that this is terrible, that I'm so disappointed God didn't spare me from this, and I'm so deeply sad for my family. I resolved to ask God the impossible questions and wait for Him to meet me there - even if it isn't to provide me with the answers my heart seeks - I know He will meet me in that place of pain and hurt and be with me. Over the last week I have experienced peace, peace of letting go, really knowing in my heart of hearts that my life is not my own and as much as I strive and try to control things - it will only end in fatigue and frustration.
I have struggled with being real, before others and before God. So many people have been overwhelmingly kind to me during these difficult days, and while well intentioned, some have given me the distinct impression that what they really want is just for me to be okay. But, nothing about loosing two babies in the same year is okay. I heard a story recently about a man who suffered from Cerebral Palsy and he talked about what a burden he carried trying to assure and affirm others who visited him in the hospital and what a rare gift it is to have someone who won't try to cheer you up or make you feel better. I sense that feeling of needing to rush to some state of healing so that others won't worry or so I can appear to be put together again. I think especially as Christians we can put a lot of pressure on ourselves to respond "rightly" and move to a place of perfect peace, open hands, and smiling lips that sing praises. As if somehow holiness is an attainable virtue based on personal performance.
Honestly, I never imagined this would be my 'lot' and it seems the worldly notion of getting what you deserve is planted somewhere in my being. It is difficult for me to accept this 'lot' and release responsibility - I did not earn or deserve it and I cannot perform or deserve my way out of it. Being good, acting holy, responding 'rightly', working hard, and loving others will not bring my babies back or protect me from another tragedy. However, I am learning that opening my heart - wounds and all - and acting justly, loving mercy, being thankful - it may just prepare me to weather the storm, and embrace each day without squandering the opportunity to live fully where ever I am. Whether I am rejoicing in the blessing, grieving in the loss - somehow, by the grace of God, there is goodness, reasons to be thankful, and joy that overcomes deepest sorrows.
I can't say I would ever choose the brokenness, the pain that shatters hearts into a thousand pieces. But, I see the beauty, even now I see the beauty of a Deliverer who knows the deepest darkness, the greatest suffering, the most immense fear... and He will not withdraw his hand - He will not forsake His beloved. That is the confidence we have, those who walk the path of brokenness. And once you have been down this road and found joy, found hope, found peace - there is truly nothing to fear - because you know that even if you have to descend to the deepest darkness, He will find you there and He will be good.
I feel hope rising in my heart again. Hope that I will reap a harvest of goodness, even if it isn't what I asked for. "I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord, be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord." Psalm 27:13-14. So, I'm still here, my heart still broken, but I resolve to hold on to Jesus and persevere until there is a harvest of blessing. Like Jacob wrestling with God, but refusing to let go - I grieve, but I also wait with expectation, believing God is bringing beauty from the ashes.
I need to be reminded
of who You are
of opened hands choosing Your will
the same hands waiting to cradle me still.
Reminded that today is not forever
and that yesterday is not tomorrow.
Reminded that safety is only an illusion
and fear isn't worth the hope that I'm loosing.
Reminded of Your love that is
shiftless and strong.
I cannot change it, deserve it,
only receive it and give it.
I can't seem to forget the fleeting worries of today
which only make Eternity seem further away.
I need to be reminded that the things I forget
are more true and lasting than the things with me yet.
As I have struggled with my grief, I have felt the prayers of many carry me to the Throne and God has been there. It has given me the strength and the courage to resolve to give up any pretense of holiness and just tell Jesus the truth - that this is terrible, that I'm so disappointed God didn't spare me from this, and I'm so deeply sad for my family. I resolved to ask God the impossible questions and wait for Him to meet me there - even if it isn't to provide me with the answers my heart seeks - I know He will meet me in that place of pain and hurt and be with me. Over the last week I have experienced peace, peace of letting go, really knowing in my heart of hearts that my life is not my own and as much as I strive and try to control things - it will only end in fatigue and frustration.
I have struggled with being real, before others and before God. So many people have been overwhelmingly kind to me during these difficult days, and while well intentioned, some have given me the distinct impression that what they really want is just for me to be okay. But, nothing about loosing two babies in the same year is okay. I heard a story recently about a man who suffered from Cerebral Palsy and he talked about what a burden he carried trying to assure and affirm others who visited him in the hospital and what a rare gift it is to have someone who won't try to cheer you up or make you feel better. I sense that feeling of needing to rush to some state of healing so that others won't worry or so I can appear to be put together again. I think especially as Christians we can put a lot of pressure on ourselves to respond "rightly" and move to a place of perfect peace, open hands, and smiling lips that sing praises. As if somehow holiness is an attainable virtue based on personal performance.
Honestly, I never imagined this would be my 'lot' and it seems the worldly notion of getting what you deserve is planted somewhere in my being. It is difficult for me to accept this 'lot' and release responsibility - I did not earn or deserve it and I cannot perform or deserve my way out of it. Being good, acting holy, responding 'rightly', working hard, and loving others will not bring my babies back or protect me from another tragedy. However, I am learning that opening my heart - wounds and all - and acting justly, loving mercy, being thankful - it may just prepare me to weather the storm, and embrace each day without squandering the opportunity to live fully where ever I am. Whether I am rejoicing in the blessing, grieving in the loss - somehow, by the grace of God, there is goodness, reasons to be thankful, and joy that overcomes deepest sorrows.
I can't say I would ever choose the brokenness, the pain that shatters hearts into a thousand pieces. But, I see the beauty, even now I see the beauty of a Deliverer who knows the deepest darkness, the greatest suffering, the most immense fear... and He will not withdraw his hand - He will not forsake His beloved. That is the confidence we have, those who walk the path of brokenness. And once you have been down this road and found joy, found hope, found peace - there is truly nothing to fear - because you know that even if you have to descend to the deepest darkness, He will find you there and He will be good.
I feel hope rising in my heart again. Hope that I will reap a harvest of goodness, even if it isn't what I asked for. "I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord, be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord." Psalm 27:13-14. So, I'm still here, my heart still broken, but I resolve to hold on to Jesus and persevere until there is a harvest of blessing. Like Jacob wrestling with God, but refusing to let go - I grieve, but I also wait with expectation, believing God is bringing beauty from the ashes.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Fall with you
You are a house that’s broken down
You are a house that’s burning
And everything in me wants to run
But that’s not love
If you fall, I fall with you
If you hurt I feel it too
Even if my heart turns black and blue
I will love you
I planted seeds down in the ground
Not every one is growing
When I am tempted to give up
I choose love
If you fall, I fall with you
If you hurt I feel it too
Even if my heart turns black and blue
I will love you
Beauty and light will fight for you
Goodness will rise
You are a house that’s burning
And everything in me wants to run
But that’s not love
If you fall, I fall with you
If you hurt I feel it too
Even if my heart turns black and blue
I will love you
I planted seeds down in the ground
Not every one is growing
When I am tempted to give up
I choose love
If you fall, I fall with you
If you hurt I feel it too
Even if my heart turns black and blue
I will love you
Beauty and light will fight for you
Goodness will rise
It shines for you
I came across this song today and it put words to the melody of my heart today. I needed to be reminded that as far as I fall, I am not alone. I haven't been able to talk to many people yet, but I have been so grateful for the outpouring of support and for friends who are willing to fall with me and fight with me and hurt with me. There is no right thing to say to someone in this place, no words that make the pain less. But, there has been something healing about friends and family willing to sit with me in my pain and let it be okay that nothing is okay.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Breaking the Silence
The blog went silent a few months ago, in part because I started a new job that keeps me very busy, but also in part because I found out I was pregnant again and felt a little terrified of telling the world. We made it past the point were I miscarried last time in January (9 weeks), we made it through the first trimester screening (13 weeks) and everything looked perfect. Baby was fine, heartbeat was strong, no red flags on any testing that was done. We told Haydn about the baby, we shared the news with friends and co-workers. We believed in April we would be holding our newest family member... this week, just shy of 17 weeks - everything changed.
I sit in silence - these the only 'words' that can escape. I still can't believe it, at 16.5 weeks, we lost another baby - "late term missed miscarriage" it is called. Despite my fear, my worry, my worst nightmares - I really believed that everything would be okay. Total devastation, shattered hopes, utter agonizing pain - that is what surrounds me. To have made it to this point and loose this baby we desperately wanted, hoped for, waited for, prayed for, believed God for. It is a crushing blow - one that I don't think I've even fully absorbed yet.
Somehow, God has been preparing my heart to receive this - bringing me to points of being willing to fully entrust this baby to Him and believing that as much as I love and desire good things for my children - God loves and desires good things for me and my family. So, where's the good? I struggle with why it had to happen like this, why bring us this far, why are there no answers for my dead babies? What about the hundreds, maybe thousands of prayers I prayed specifically for this to NOT happen? I don't have answers to those questions, right now - maybe I never will. But God has been reminding me all along that HE is God and I am not. And who am I to accept blessings from His hand and not also accept burdens and pain?
Recently, I was reminded about the kind of woman I want to be. The kind that pours out grace to those in my life because I know all that God has redeemed me from and as a result I live with open hands that receive from Him and pour out in return. I don't deserve happy endings or easy roadways. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful when they come, but God hasn't cheated me when it doesn't turn out that way. Why? Because this isn't Eden and it isn't Heaven. It is the waiting... and the waiting is full of awful, painful reminders of our humanness. Humanness that reminds us to thank the Lord that this is not eternity. Heaven is coming, and when it does there will be no more pain, no more tears, no more heartbreak. And when I get there, there will be three perfectly formed babies waiting for their Mommy and together we will worship the Lord - forever. But until then, I am here - waiting.
When I first found out I was pregnant I was reading the Bible and came across a verse I wrote down, not knowing it would become the epitome of where I sit today. "Through the heartfelt mercies of our God, God's sunrise will break in upon us shining on those in darkness, those sitting in the shadow of death, then showing us the way, one foot at a time, down the path of peace. Luke 1:64-65" (The Message)
I sit here, in the shadow of death, waiting for the merciful light of God to shine and show me the way one step at a time to His peace. Please pray with us, we so desperately need it right now as we stand on this precipice of total darkness and despair. It would be so easy to choose despair instead of hope, fear instead of trust, anger instead of grace, and hearts that are hardened instead of open. Pray for our sweet 4 year old baby. I don't know how to shield him from my pain as much this time around. He grieves in his own way and doesn't understand why the baby had to go to heaven - I don't know either. He sees our sadness and wants to pretend there is a baby so maybe we will feel better. It breaks my heart all over again.
I know somehow the sun will rise, dawn will break in my heart again, and joy will come in the morning - but I still feel so lost right now. All I can do is breathe in grace, breathe out praise, and repeat.
I sit in silence - these the only 'words' that can escape. I still can't believe it, at 16.5 weeks, we lost another baby - "late term missed miscarriage" it is called. Despite my fear, my worry, my worst nightmares - I really believed that everything would be okay. Total devastation, shattered hopes, utter agonizing pain - that is what surrounds me. To have made it to this point and loose this baby we desperately wanted, hoped for, waited for, prayed for, believed God for. It is a crushing blow - one that I don't think I've even fully absorbed yet.
Somehow, God has been preparing my heart to receive this - bringing me to points of being willing to fully entrust this baby to Him and believing that as much as I love and desire good things for my children - God loves and desires good things for me and my family. So, where's the good? I struggle with why it had to happen like this, why bring us this far, why are there no answers for my dead babies? What about the hundreds, maybe thousands of prayers I prayed specifically for this to NOT happen? I don't have answers to those questions, right now - maybe I never will. But God has been reminding me all along that HE is God and I am not. And who am I to accept blessings from His hand and not also accept burdens and pain?
Recently, I was reminded about the kind of woman I want to be. The kind that pours out grace to those in my life because I know all that God has redeemed me from and as a result I live with open hands that receive from Him and pour out in return. I don't deserve happy endings or easy roadways. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful when they come, but God hasn't cheated me when it doesn't turn out that way. Why? Because this isn't Eden and it isn't Heaven. It is the waiting... and the waiting is full of awful, painful reminders of our humanness. Humanness that reminds us to thank the Lord that this is not eternity. Heaven is coming, and when it does there will be no more pain, no more tears, no more heartbreak. And when I get there, there will be three perfectly formed babies waiting for their Mommy and together we will worship the Lord - forever. But until then, I am here - waiting.
When I first found out I was pregnant I was reading the Bible and came across a verse I wrote down, not knowing it would become the epitome of where I sit today. "Through the heartfelt mercies of our God, God's sunrise will break in upon us shining on those in darkness, those sitting in the shadow of death, then showing us the way, one foot at a time, down the path of peace. Luke 1:64-65" (The Message)
I sit here, in the shadow of death, waiting for the merciful light of God to shine and show me the way one step at a time to His peace. Please pray with us, we so desperately need it right now as we stand on this precipice of total darkness and despair. It would be so easy to choose despair instead of hope, fear instead of trust, anger instead of grace, and hearts that are hardened instead of open. Pray for our sweet 4 year old baby. I don't know how to shield him from my pain as much this time around. He grieves in his own way and doesn't understand why the baby had to go to heaven - I don't know either. He sees our sadness and wants to pretend there is a baby so maybe we will feel better. It breaks my heart all over again.
I know somehow the sun will rise, dawn will break in my heart again, and joy will come in the morning - but I still feel so lost right now. All I can do is breathe in grace, breathe out praise, and repeat.
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