Monday, October 17, 2016


Somewhere along the way, approximately four years ago when the journey to grow our family began, this blog quit being a place where I would post family pictures, stories and updates and began serving as a window into the pain that was ripping apart my soul.  I still rarely post about all the good things that are happening and tend to come here mostly to unload the burden of my heart.  I have learned in my suffering, that even if no one else hears it, my pain needs a voice – it needs to flow forth from my heart onto a page. 

This time around I can’t seem to find my voice, and even when I do find it, I can’t authentically speak the truth that my heart knows.  I am grateful for the prayer warriors that I know continue to speak truth over my life right now – sometimes we all need a voice when we cannot trust our own.  Having walked this road before, I expected that I would have the road map; I would know where we are going and have the tools to get there.  I don’t.  It is strange to go back and read my words about grief and what it felt like at that time.  Many of the same feelings are there and it does bring me some comfort to remember that I can do hard things and that God will ALWAYS meet me there, no matter how dark or how painful, darkness and light are the same to Him (Psalm 139:12).  This loss was startling in so many ways.  I will never understand how a strong heartbeat turns into no heartbeat in a matter of hours.  Even as initial pathology reports return indicating nothing abnormal - there is nothing normal about losing three babies in less than four years.  I want so badly to be able to point to something and say "It is this, this is what went wrong."  Because if I can say that then maybe there is a way to fix this, some measure of preventative strategy to be taken.  Even though there are more tests to be done, more doctors to see - I don't expect that we will find any medical explanation for why we are facing this reality.

I am realizing again that part of me has believed the lie that is so prominent in our culture.  We can do anything, be anything, achieve anything.  If we work hard enough, give enough, sacrifice enough, desire it enough, if we are good enough - we will earn it, we can do it.  The truth doesn't look like that however; the truth is that we can do all the right things, make the right choices, work our hardest, and we can still fail to achieve the outcome we so deeply desire.  As a 'fixer' by nature, that is maybe one of the hardest things for me to surrender - I cannot earn my way out of this or work hard enough to prevent this kind of pain from happening.  It seems that at this juncture, I am left with few choices.  I can't control the future of my family, but I sense that these next steps that I am taking are on holy ground and will shape the future of my family.  I can choose to surrender to the bitterness of my soul, to let the injustice and agony define who I will become.  I can choose to put on a brave face and stuff the pain away while I recite scripture about how God is good to us all the time.  But neither of those responses honor the life or death of my Levi.  That means the only choice I am left with is to choose to face the pain as it comes, to not run away, but feel its full intensity and stay present - to choose love.  The song that keeps resounding in my heart in these moments is the hymn, 'O love that will not let me go.'

O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

This is the love that can heal and can fill the giant emptiness that I feel inside my soul.  Somehow there is always enough, enough grace, enough strength, enough love, enough comfort.  Levi deserves the best of me, all of my earthly and heavenly babies do.  So I will keep showing up, I will keep bringing my pain and emptiness, and uttering the only words I can say right now, "Jesus, help."  I don't want this story and everything in me wants to run away from here, but that is not love.  Love holds on, it wrestles, it turns black and blue and breaks apart sometimes.   But love always wins, it always beats the darkness, always overcomes the enemy, always fulfills its purpose - love never fails.  I can choose today, as many times as needed, to believe there is hope and to love greater than my fear.   To say like Job, "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him."  Job 13:15


  1. My heart is so heavy for you. Your loss is immeasurable and yet your faith is so deep. You are a strong woman and Christian.

  2. My heart is so heavy for you. Your loss is immeasurable and yet your faith is so deep. You are a strong woman and Christian.

  3. I love you. I read a scripture Sunday that made me think of you.

    For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

    The beauty of how wide, and long, and high and deep is the love of Christ - and to know this love (that you have had in your inner being for so many years) surpasses knowledge... I wish we could know the whys but your foundation is deep, wide, high and long and though broken you trust.

    I love you.