This last weekend I had the privilege of going on a retreat called Cafe Chocolat with 40 other women to eat some chocolate and spend some time with the Lord. I was on the leadership team and knew the ins and outs of the weekend. I wasn't expecting to be moved like I was. God had different plans.
During our last session we sat with chocolate syrup (our sin) in our hand for what seemed like a really long time, but was probably 10-15 minutes. It was a mess. It spread all over, got on everything around you and even on others around you. That's so like sin, isn't it? It's just a mess and it spreads.
There were four women standing up front ready to wipe our sin away. One of them was my mom. I didn't go to her because I was trying to avoid crying. I went to another line and as my sin was being wiped away I was overcome with emotions.
Friends. I lost it. I thought about His grace and how much He has changed me in the past year. How He has just loved on me. How He has molded me through my hard times. How thankful I am for having my hard times so I lean into Him more.
I realized He's been working to give me a new name. And for this I am thankful. Praise!
Today I was remembering the circumstances of my doctors appointment one year ago and thinking through all of the emotions that came along with it. Today was a hard day. It was a tear filled and sad day.
But, He was here.
It was a day where I saw God in so many places.
He was in my boys' sweet smiles when they woke up.
He was in the text messages from friends checking in and telling me they were praying.
He was in my friend showing up at Target to give me something and then deciding to stay and walk with me while I shopped for 2.5 hours.
He was in the friendly cashier who just smiled and made pleasant conversation when the computer froze and she had to re-ring my ENTIRE order.
He was in the songs that were playing on the radio.
He was in the joy of my boys playing outside today for the first time in what feels like weeks.
He was in the fun dinner conversation about what part of dinner is a protein? vegetable? fruit?
He was in a friend calling me to check in.
He was in the hugs and kisses and tear wipes.
He was here in it all. Standing firm and never leaving my side.
I want to leave you with the song that left me sobbing. It was a comforting sob. He was there in that song. Amen.
I read this somewhere this week. It's so true when it comes to miscarriage. How do you say goodbye when you didn't get a chance to say hello?
It's been a year since my last miscarriage. And I'm not going to lie, it's been a tough year. It's been a year where the Lord and I have been working through a lot. The biggest being my miscarriage. So, I'm going to share with you my grief one year later.
The tears seem to be rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably this week. I'll be doing something like folding laundry and the next thing I know I'm crying. There's just an ache deep in my heart and it comes out in the form of tears. If I try to hold it back it makes it worse. I'm embracing letting the tears flow. The release of emotions is healthy, right?
All I know is that as I sit and cry I'm not alone. There are hundreds thousands of other women out there doing the same thing as me, mourning the loss of a child. And they're not alone either. I have this vision of Jesus rocking each and every one of us when the weight of our grief is just too much to bear. And that is a comfort to me. The Lord doesn't want us to be hurting. He is there to comfort us. And He knows exactly what we're going through. His own son did die on the cross for us.
So, mamas out there who are mourning... go ahead and cry.
So, I realize I've been missing for several weeks now. Between a case of writers block and working through some emotions again it's just been hard to figure out what to write. I spent a lot of time in December thinking about last December. I spent December 2012 praying that we would get pregnant. That we would be blessed with another child. We found out we were expecting a few days before Christmas last year. There were so many emotions; shock, amazement, fear. We started to make big plans. We were embracing the next chapter.
Then it happened. The rug got pulled out from under me, under us, and I miscarried. On February 1st it will have been a year since we lost the baby. So much has happened in that time. I'm not the same person I was a year ago. I never will be.
I was numb for several months. Sometimes I wonder how I even got out of bed. Then I remember I had so many prayer warriors praying for me. The power of prayer is an amazing thing. It is the greatest gift anyone could give me.
I still have good days and bad days. Sometimes it just hits me, that we would have been a family of five. We would have been having another first Christmas with baby number three this year. I start falling into the pit of the what ifs and the if onlys.
Oh Jesus. Come. Drag me out of that pit.
Just because that baby didn't make it into this world, doesn't mean that he (or she) isn't a part of me. A part of our lives. That child will be carried with me my entire life. That child was, and forever will be, a piece of me.
Grief is a process. A very long process. Did I say long? There is not time limit on how long you will grieve. I remember asking a friend if it ever got easier. She just replied, "it just changes."
It just changes. That was some truth.
The most helpful thing I've found is that I need to feel my pain, joy, sorrow, everything. I can't hold it in. I need to lay it out before Him and let it go. Letting it go doesn't mean I forget. It means that I don't cling to for dear life. I trust that He's got everything, including me, and keep taking one step at a time.
Back in January 2013 we told some friends that we were expecting, then they told us they were expecting. Three days later I had a miscarriage. Our baby was due at the beginning of September, their sweet baby came at the end of September. He is beautiful.
I held him for the first time last week. I cried. They were tears of joy and sorrow. I am so joyful that he made it into this world. I am so thankful that they got their baby. But I would be lying if I said it's not hard. That I don't understand why I can't be holding my baby right now. He (yeah, I just think it was a boy) would be 10 weeks old right now.
On Sunday, our friends had their son baptized. I'm one of those people that always tears up during a baptism. I think it's beautiful. Standing in community and declaring your child is His, it's just beautiful. Watching them on Sunday, standing up there with their three boys I cried again. And again they were tears of joy and sorrow.
"Others who have lost children have shared the inability to separate the sorrow from
the joy in life. I find that they are inextricably woven, never to be pulled fully from
each other in this life. I am reminded of this delicate dance as I think upon the Savior
whose blood mingled with our freedom. I am an injured dancer, and yet one who
wants her life to bring glory to the one who allowed sorrow and joy to dance at all."
Whether I got to meet my child in this life or I meet him in heaven, I still grieve for him. He was a part of me for a reason. He was not a mistake. He was knit together in my womb, even for a short time, for a purpose. For that I am thankful. I hope that the 10 short weeks I carried him, he felt loved. He was, and still is, a gift.
I was talking with a friend the other day about surrender. It's such a hard thing to do. And God doesn't want me to do it unless I want to. It's my choice. It's part of that free will thing. When I decide to surrender, I have to do it in love. If I'm not surrendering in love, then I might as well not surrender.
I've been reading Angie Smith's book I Will Carry You: The Sacred Dance of Grief and Joy. This is an amazing book by the way. Definitely worth the read! I'm realizing through reading this I am still working through the grief of my two miscarriages. I'm still working on fully surrendering those to the Lord.
Anyways... I was reading her book at a coffee shop this morning and this is what I read.
"I literally screamed at the sky while I cried over my own hurt and the hurt of a sister
I had never met. He never back down, though, and I am grateful for that love. It is
the love of a Father who Himself is well acquainted with sorrow. It is the love of a
Father who has lost His Son. He understands the ranting and the door-slamming.
The emptiness tat wraps around me when I think of my sweet Audrey.
He knows.
And He only has one request.
Bring it right to Me, Angie.
Every time the anger roars in your heart.
Bring it to Me.
Every time you feel like nobody hears you.
Bring it to Me.
When you think it isn't fair. When you think it isn't true. When you can't think at all.
Bring it to My feet, and I will make an altar from your suffering."
- Angie Smith, I Will Carry You
Whether is grief, life or something else that's overwhelming me. I can take it to His feet. I can surrender it to Him in love and He will make an altar from my suffering. He understands everything that I'm going through. It's all covered in His love.
I lift my eyes to the mountains - where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2
I have no words. My heart just aches. Parents aren't supposed to bury their children. I want to say the right thing. I want to do something for them. There is no right thing to say and there is nothing I can do that can make this ok.
So, what can I do to help?
Right now, all I can do is pray. All I can do is lean into our Creator, asking Him to give them support. To give them comfort. To give them the strength to get through the days, weeks, months and years ahead.
I started my Holy Yoga practice the other morning with the intent of surrender. A few nights ago Beau gave me some news. I knew what he told me already, but to hear it spoken out loud is different. The news could possibly be a big change for us. I don't do change well.
I also just started reading Hinds Feet On High Places. It's a book about total surrender to God. God is with you through the trenches, in the lowest of the low. If you fully trust in Him, fully surrender, He'll take you to the high places.
I approach everything with caution (aka fear). I'm afraid of being fully open, too vulnerable. It's too much for me. I've spent my entire life building up walls of protection around myself. This is so I don't have to feel the pain, the hurt of life.
What have my walls done for me? Nothing!
Have I released the pain from my past? No!
All of the pain and hurt from my life is stuck inside the walls around my heart. The walls that I put there. They are the walls that He wants to tear down. But, He doesn't want to take a wrecking ball to my walls. That would be too fast and we (He and I) wouldn't be able to work through each piece. Some of it would get lost in the rubble. He wants to take my walls down one brick at a time.
ONE. BRICK . AT. A. TIME.
That's going to take a long time. He wants to put that much work into me. He would do it for anyone. I need to feel each and every brick. To feel the weight of them and let them go. One at a time. Releasing them to Him.
(Insert big sigh...)
It won't be easy and I can't do it alone. I'm glad that He'll be there with me every brick along the way. I need Him. I need His strength, because I'm tired just thinking about the work ahead. I'm still trying to fully surrender to this process. It's hard. But, He is on my side.
Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.
I am so thrilled to see how God is at work in our lives. I got an email this morning from my "very special person" from this post. She wanted to share a little more about her story, how our paths crossed at Holy Yoga retreat, and what God is doing with her since retreat. So, I introduce LJ. My sweet friend that God brought me in my time of need.
I feel as though I need to add my story to Megan's, because
I am "the very special person...[who] knew exactly what [she] was going
through." Megan's story is moving and my story is moving, but the
way our stories connect is amazing and shows just how truly awesome our God is.
Three days before Megan's miscarriage, my husband and I lost our
first baby. God showed me, shortly after it happened, that I would be
asked to share my experience with others so that He could love people through
me. This was a hard revelation because it was not something I wanted to
discuss, even though I wanted to be used by Him to help people.
Megan was in my small group at the Holy Yoga retreat. She shared her
testimony with us--her struggles with losing her two babies--and I felt God
urging me to enter into her grief and walk alongside her. I refused.
Too vulnerable. Too scary. During meditation the next
morning, God STRONGLY nudged me (more of a shove, really) to share my story and
my pain with Megan. I wrestled with it for a while, but finally submitted
and we began a week-long process of healing together. He turned our mourning
into joy and our sorrow into gladness (Jer 31:13)
I came home from Arizona perfectly contented to let the story end there and
sing God's praises, for "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their
wounds" (Ps 147:3). But God had bigger plans. My pastor pulled me
aside in church and asked if I would speak to a new believer who just lost her
baby. He said he knew that we were keeping it to ourselves, but this
woman needs to talk to someone who has been through it and so I came to mind.
"I didn't know...is this too soon?"
Not a moment too soon! A week ago, I would not have been ready, but by
God's grace and for His glory, He gave me exactly what I needed when I needed
it in order to be equipped to do the work He has for me to do--work that only I
can do BECAUSE of my pain here on this earth; my submission to and trust in
God's higher plan for my pain; and God's provision, comfort, and love through
it all. Isn't that the message of the cross?
I just wanted to share that because Megan was as much a part of
my healing process as I was part of hers, and I just think it's incredible how
God brought two strangers together who shared the same pain and healed them
through the fellowship they share in Christ. How great is our God!
LJ
God is so good people! Do you see it? Do you see how He brings us the people we need? Are you open to it?
My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. (John 10:27-28)
I've been talking about my miscarriage a lot lately. This was my second miscarriage, my first happened in June of 2011. I was clinging to my babies not wanting to forget them, which was making me cling to my pain. I was afraid to give that over to God because I thought it would make me forget them. Forget their sweet, innocent, too short lives.
This brings me to my breaking point. You know you've been there. It's that point where you can't stand anymore. You crumble to the floor in a messy pile. People, I don't get there often. I have been putting up walls around my heart to protect myself for years. But, it wasn't protecting me at all. I was just holding on to everything.
The first night at my Holy Yoga Retreat we did a gentle practice. I was just excited to do some yoga after traveling all day. I had no idea what God had planned for me that night. Not long into the practice and I was sobbing, uncontrollably sobbing. I was mourning the loss of my sweet babies. Why did their lives have to end before I got to meet them? I was not mourning alone, my Holy Yoga family was with me. As soon as I started showing signs of crying someone was there, right next to me, adjusting my pose to go deeper, to help me release. They were hugging me and comforting me. No words needed to be spoken. I don't know who was comforting me, I don't need to know. They felt led to come to me and love me. That is the love of Christ. That is what Holy Yoga is all about.
After that practice I felt great. What an emotional release sobbing was. I felt like I had finally handed it over to God. Then comes the next morning, after yet another sleepless night. It's never that easy to get over something. It took time to get me down into my dark place, it was going to take more time to get out of there. Tuesday was a rough day. I wanted to climb into bed and not get out all day. I felt disconnected and discouraged. Why was I even there? Then we had small group and were sharing testimonies. I went first and shared that I have a hard time seeing where God is through all of this. I felt alone in it and abandoned. I didn't even realize it, but I was putting myself out there again, opening up my heart a little bit more. God brought me a very special person that week that knew exactly what I was going through. That right there is why I was at this retreat and not in Virginia in October.
Then comes Wednesday morning. I spent time during meditation asking God "Why?". I spent time during morning practice asking God "Why?". So, God led me to my small group leader, Kathi (who has a gift for bringing tears and cheers). I walked up to her and everything spilled out. All of my hurt, my anger, my fear. She listened to it all and said we needed Renee (a woman with a beautiful spirit). God led Kathi to Renee. He knew who he could use to break down my walls. I shared my story with Renee and then we prayed.
People, I've never prayed like that before. I felt that prayer in my heart. I felt that wall in my heart crumble and I felt Him take my pain. He took it for me. So I wouldn't have to bear it anymore. I am lighter. Have I forgotten my babies? Nope, not once have I forgotten them. But, I left behind the pain of losing my two babies because I know that He has them and He has me.
I share these part of my story with you today because this JJ Heller video spoke to me today.
At lunch yesterday my 3 year old asked me again, "How come we don't have a baby anymore?" This is one of those questions that he keeps asking. It pops up randomly in conversation and has been for the last two months (I miscarried a second time in January 2013). I don't know how to answer it. I told him that sometimes babies don't make it in their mommy's tummy's and they go to heaven. He nods his head and moves on, until the next time he asks me. I'm happy to answer his question over and over again.
For me, every time he asks I freeze. I get a lump in my throat. I have to fight back tears. It's been a little over 2 months, but it still hurts. The pain is deep. The aching heart is still there. I think I'm over it and then something knocks me to my knees and tears stream down my face. I pray to be free of the pain. To be able to let go and fully trust in God's plans.
