Journal

11/24/2010
This Thanksgiving I would have been nearing my 20th week. I would have been feeling the movements of life within me and would have been laying awake at night praying over that tiny form just as I have done with my other four children. Instead the past three weeks have been filled with listless, lonely nights with sleep just beyond my reach. Even in sheer exhaustion as I lay down my chest seems to clamp within a vice and my heart races to an unbearable rate. I beg for focus but seem so far from God - my Comforter. I feel as David felt - "How long will you stay hidden from me?" - though I know he is right there. I try to be silent and still - waiting; but many nights find me wandering from bed to bed praying over my sleeping family. I have even gathered my sleeping itty-bittys (Rachel and Justin) into my arms just to breathe them in and rock them or leaned closely to Anna and Chase (who are now too big for me to pick up without rousing them from sleep) just to trace their brow and kiss their forehead. I never could have imagined the magnitude of such loss or how my arms would ache so bad to hold Caleb, to kiss his fuzzy little baby head, to hold him close to nurse, or to rock him to sleep in the silent of night. My heart absolutely aches at the realization that I will not see his first steps or ever hear his laughter (what would that have sounded like anyway), or see his eyes look into mine with unconditional love, or see him grow up.

I know God's goodness - I've experience His mercy - stood washed in His grace - been rocked asleep in His arms - and heard His whispered love. I do not doubt He has gathered and counted every tear. I know that Caleb is experiencing perfect love - a love not fully experienced here on earth because we are sullied by sin and walk in wretched humanity unable to experience such love in its absolute fullness. I believe with all my heart that God whispers our love for Caleb to him and has told him that we will soon be together. However, in my humanity I am weak and broken - and my heart is in agony and the recovery is slow. I feel poured out and broken before my Father, laying on His alter.

I did not choose this loss - it was written in my story before time began by a Just and Loving God. It is simply a part of my journey to my "expected end" that is promised in scripture - the purpose and end God has planned for me. My choice was and still remains: will I surrender this life to God's will - will I invite Him and allow Him to work in me and through me to make my life a tapestry woven of the finer things of God - the end product being a completed work of God - a reflection of Him to whom I belong. Yes....though I be weak I will depend on His strenght as I surrender.

I did not chose this loss - for if it had been my plan I would be welcoming a healthy baby into the world - but then my plan would have meant omitting God and the blessings of Him who gives and takes away. The truth remains though that we have no choice in life or death - God has numbered our days, has set our path. Our choice is what we do with this free will, this life that has been given each of us. I am called to trust that which I can not see, to trust that all this works for my good because of whom I believe in. I am called to fall back on the arms that held me before time and that will welcome me home some day.

I have come to see how truly unworthy I am of God's love. In my selfish humanity I would not choose this loss. However, because of my once unredeemed state and because of His great love for me - God chose His loss that it would become my greatest gain. While we as parents pray for protection and recovery of our children, while we beg for the miracle of life to be sustained, while we cling to them as though we could influence providence, add one day to their life, or save them from even one sorrow - My God sent is only son into the frame of sinful humanity. To walk on this cursed ground in the weakened flesh of man, to be tempted, taunted, tortured, and killed by the sinful creation. He willingly set into motion a plan that would in the end break His holy heart for an unholy, unworthy, created being - ME - a sinner worthy only of judgment and the death. On the day that they crucified my Lord it is said that the sky turned black at noon and that the earth rocked and rumbled and split wide open - Creation cried out as Abba's heart broke that mine might be restored.

So who am I to question this loss I did not choose - this child I was asked to return to the one who created him in the first place and who blessed us with him for a short time? Should I not praise, even in this broken state? Who am I to question the Creator who answered so many prayers during the pregnancy - worked so many miracles - allowed me to utter His testimonies of goodness?

Grace allowed me to see my son's tiny form on ultrasound, to hear his heartbeat to the cadence of unknown angels songs. Love descended as a blanket from above in nights as I prayed over Caleb. Peace is like a hushed breeze around me as I walk this valley of suffering and as we walked through the shadow of death to emerge with praises. Mercy has delivered me from the arrows of the enemy. My Father's hands have lovingly gathered my tears and counted every one a precious offering. My Father's arms have wrapped around Brent and I and held us closely causing us to fall more in love with Him and more deeply and intimately in love with each other.

I will praise in this hour of suffering for beautiful things have been shown me.

I go to church on Sunday mornings and the praise music begins and this broken heart held together so gingerly shatters once more on the alter of praise as I am brought to remembrance of this great God who chose to sacrifice His only son for me. I come face to face with this Grace, this Love, this Mercy that has become so personal to me and that was given at such a chosen loss of my God. I who am unworthy am ushered into inner courts, into the holy of holies to praise before the alter, at the feet of the King. At times I can't even breathe, my tears fall in waves, I hold tightly the pew afraid to trust my own legs to support myself. My soul feels like it will burst. I am unworthy even to whisper His name. Yet here He invites me in to worship and in offering up this praise He sends healing waters to my heart. He sends visions of my son in the midst of the crowd of saints in the heavenly courts of praise raising tiny baby arms up to the Lord with smiles and laughter. Uninhibited, freely praising - giggling, dancing up and down in pure undiluted excitement.

I am not worthy of such honor and yet He has chosen to give it to me.

I am enthralled by this King, in love with this Savior, captivated by this Father, consumed by this God.

Thank you, O Abba for choosing your loss that it would be my greatest gain. Thank you, Lord, that you can take the loss I would not have chosen and the pain of that loss and make it more beautiful because of your presence in it. Take this life of mine, and use it according to your plan. I choose, O God, to give you alone the glory in my joy and in my suffering. If left to my own choices in this frail humanity I will always fall short of your blessed plan for my life. But I have confidence in the One who called me that you have laid my path and I leave my choices in your hand for your direction. I am surrendered. Amen