A Hurting Heart After Miscarriage

My heart aches, burns.  I feel I can barely breathe.  My chest is a fiery furnace of smoldering embers.  So, tired.  Pain that returns, twice as strong pounding from the inside.  I feel it pushing behind my eyes.  Pushing against my ears like hot steam about to explode under pressure.

I don't want to feel all of this again.  Just go away.  Do I have to feel all of this?  Won't it be the same? The same as when my dad died?  The same as when my step-dad died, or my grandmother died?  The same as when our other baby died?  Because that was like all the rest combined.

What more must I learn, God?  What more?  My heart has been tenderized to a bloody pulp. Please, have mercy on me.  I have no energy right now.

I know what lies ahead.  Tears that well up until they burst out like an angry flood.  Silent but screaming nights.  Lonely days where the world keeps going, but I haven't.  I just don't want to go through it all again.

I still have hope.  I still have faith.  Please help me to ever see your face- no matter this pain.  I don't understand.  I really don't get it, but I believe in your plan.  One that is good no matter what happens.  Please, help me keep my eyes on you.  Help me be a better person, wife and mother.  I know this is an opportunity for me to be more like you and to love you more.  I really want that.  I don't want to get caught up in myself so much that I reject you and those that love me.

Water.  I'm just asking for a drop or two.  Just enough to take the sting away for a moment.  So well acquainted with grief am I...an unwelcome visitor that I cannot refuse and whose length of stay is unknown.  I cannot control the veil that covers me now, but I know you want me to see things I have not before.

Separation from the world.  To better understand just what this life is all about.
To sit in the stillness with you.

God, my God.  Come sit with me here as I am shrouded.  Heal my heart again.

I am your servant.  I am but a lowly girl with nothing to offer, but I accept your gift of love and peace.  I can do nothing apart from you.  I can change nothing apart from you.  All is not lost.  I am but a blind child who has limited understanding.  I must trust you to hold me close when it is dark, damp and scary.  I must trust you to lead me by still waters when all I hear are raging seas.  I must follow you when I don't know where the path will lead.  I know in my heart the path will go to a place far beyond my dreams.

You are my God.  You are Father, Savior, Spirit, Truth.

I will see my babies again.  I will hold them and kiss them just like I do our baby here.  They will be in their perfect bodies.  What a sweet reunion!  What a blessed day.  To meet my Savior and babies all at once!

God is good.  He is just.

Hallelujah to the great I AM.

Lessons from Parenthood

Being a Mommy, is nothing like I thought it would be.  I really didn't think about the daily ups and downs when I was dreaming of holding a baby in my arms.  It's true that you really can't fathom parenthood until you are smack dab (the southern girl is coming out) in the middle of it.

I sit here refreshed after a long shower where I didn't hurry and actually shaved my legs.  It was heavenly.  It has been several days since I showered (tmi?), and my body reeked of dried throw up since my daughter was sick yesterday.  That part of parenthood, may have been spoken of before we had our little one, but the reality of it was nothing I could understand at the time.

It sounds disgusting to be a parent, huh?  I was taking care of her by myself since my husband was working, and it was mostly great.  It hurt my heart to see her sick, but holding her, stroking her hair and loving her brought me so much joy.

I was recently asked what it's like to be connected to a little one her age.  I gave some type of answer about loving it when she rests her head on my shoulder.  I thought more about it later, and realized there are no words.  Nothing can describe the moment you first lay eyes on them, when they smile at you for the first time and belt out a little giggle.  No words can measure the burning love you feel for them while you hold them, rock them, sing to them, feed them...while you love them.

I have learned so much in the past year.  The most valuable lesson is that I can do nothing in my own strength.  Raising a child has taught me that only frustration will come if I don't bow before the author of all when I have no idea what else to do.  For now, it's trying to get her not to be such a picky eater, but I know in years to come there will be so much more that is out of my control. And I can't fix it.

It's such a great privilege and responsibility to be a parent.  I know that my responsibility is to always pray for and with her.  It's to teach her the way she should go so that when she is old she will not depart from it.  That means I need to step up my game.  I need to be mindful of my own faults and limitations and lay them before the throne.  I need to ask for what I lack.  God gives so graciously if we only ask.

Sometimes, I tell my husband, "I'm afraid I'll mess up our daughter".  I am limiting the power of God and the redemption of Christ's blood.  When I say that, I am thinking of my faults and not the God I pray to.  He is the one that gave us this beautiful child, yet I seem to forget he is here to guide us as we raise her.

I am grateful for this moment of cleanliness and quiet while she naps.  I am grateful that God is so patient with me.  May I learn from him-especially if she wakes up grouchy!