There’s only love
There’s only mercy and believe me it’s enough….
This songs keeps running through my head as I read through this blog. Read this entry and be astounded…
http://www.especiallyheather.com/2008/02/25/our-family-has-chosen-to/
This women. This warrior. Has brain cancer, had her daughters leg amputated. It makes me feel horribly ashamed that I bother God with my pleas for the little things I’ve been begging for lately. I know that’s not her intent in keeping that blog. And it’s not the only thing I draw from her. (I also know that God hears my prayers and doesn’t consider them pitiful in the least.)
Over the last seven months, and sending two babies to Jesus’ arms, I have come to the same place she talks about. There’s another song I’ve been drawn too, called Held by Natalie Grant the lyrics are as follows:
Two months is too little.
They let him go.
They had no sudden healing.
To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling.
Who told us we’d be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We’re asking why this happens
To us who have died to live?
It’s unfair.
Chorus:
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held.
This hand is bitterness.
We want to taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrow.
The wise hands opens slowly to lillys of the valley and tomorrow.
(Chorus)
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held.
Bridge:
If hope is born of suffering.
If this is only the beginning.
Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?
(Chorus)
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held.
The promise of Christ is a brilliant shining star in the midst of our lives. We cling to it, we hold it holy, and we worship a creator who in his heart loves us so. It makes the hard moments even harder as we walk through things a fallen world hands us. It’s hard to remember in the midst of death especially that God is still there holding us while we cry. It’s hopeful to draw from the story of Lazarus that God cries with us. Weeps, sobs, and has a holy righteous anger at their pain.
But the question always remains, “WHY? If you have the power, why let this happen to me?” My specific story, this relates to having God plant a Grant in womb, to breed a large hope and confidence in my God. Then to believe for a miracle, to be prayed for, to believe that this time when we saw our Gabriel he would be there, to have him be gone. To worship on the way to my D & C, and know that God would redeem to be crying again in October over the loss of little Ruby. The sweet, soft, little girl I’d been dreaming of. That brought me through the last four months of intense grief, anger, and questioning, watching as a seemingly endless stream of babies has been born in my close circle of loved ones.
That brings me to a fear more real than anything I’ve ever experienced. Watching my precious husband, and family grieve those little lives, to their renewal of hope. Having that hope resting on my shoulders is suffocating. My husband’s renewal of hope is frightening, as I cannot bear to watch him suffer again. I cannot bear to add another little life to the arms of my creator. Some days I think I should just not even try.
It’s unfathomable, this life we walk. It’s brought me more intense pain than I’d care to deal with. My share of this has been small in comparison to many others. This Christmas I held my crying friend, as she faced a Christmas without her five year old daughter. A child who until she died showed NO signs of sickness. I’ve grieved the loss of two grandparents, a nephew, along with my own children. I’ve watched marriages disintegrate, churches split, Christians slam each other, all in the name of Christ.
But then there’s the good. The fact that my precious little babies won’t know the pain of a fallen world. They’ll only know the love of the one who created them. They’ll be rocked to sleep each night by Christ himself, and on His off days, they run circles about my Grandma Joan, and our Grandpa Frank. I have a marriage that is being purified by the fires of the Holy one Himself. I love the man he’s picked for me, and in our most intimate loving moments as a couple, I am shook to my core by the love of God. I look at my son each day. Each day he grows into the man God created him to be. His little face, hands, actions, words, and nuances remind me of the life of miracles. His life was never to be according to the world. I rock that life to sleep each night, I kiss his owies, I tend his heart, his spirit, his soul. I don’t have to worry about messing up because where I mess up, God steps in.
I’m going on and on but the basic theme here is, when giving up seems the place to land, that’s when our Father is given the power to step in. Those moments of pain, weakness, and anger are the moments of intimacy with God. We are rocked to our core, but then reminded through God’s grace that life continues. That those intense moments are the moments testimony, redemption, and hope are built on. Those are the building blocks of a character of Christ.
God put his own son through a torturous death so that in my moment of pain, I would have the arms of Christ to run to. I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful for the pain. I’m learning to embrace it, to search God’s face in those moments. I am making a choice. I don’t understand Lord, I don’t get it. I can’t even begin to understand. I choose you over any knowledge, any comfort, any cost. If it takes sending my little ones back to you to save one more person, create any sort of glory for you. DO IT. Make it more painful. I trust you, I trust your power, your glory, your will, your plan for my life.
I will see the good in everyday moments. I will learn more about Him, and His word, and follow it to the letter. I will.
I too choose to believe God no matter what. I choose to believe in the supernatural power that passes my understanding, and I give up the right to understand.
It’s hard. We’re human, we feel, we ache, we fail. We sin. No matter what ugly place we’re in, God’s been there. God knows us, our heart, and loves us again. He knew what was going to happen before we did.
Our pain, this world, this life is but an inkling. Thank God. I was so inspired by Heather today, I feel renewed hope. Believing is a choice, and an easy one sometimes. Sometimes more difficult. I’m so in love with my Savior these days…my life my not bear the fruit he wants it to yet, but I know I’m on the path.
I don’t know where I would be without my faith. There are a million scenarios, and I look at Britney Spears and wonder if I would’ve been walking the same path. I don’t know. I’m just grateful I don’t have to walk that. Better or worse I’m not sure, but I don’t care either.
Wow. That was heavy. Sermonly huh? I just couldn’t believe the perspective that article gave me. I needed to share. Now it’s two, Grants down for God only knows how long, and I am going to get some sleep. The dishes and laundry are done, and the house is clean so there’s really nothing else for me to do.
FEELS OH SO GOOD! Ten points for me. I am redeeming them in sleep time. (Please God?)
And the vicious cycle starts again.
