Letting Go and Accepting More

Some amazing people in my life have passed away lately.  A few more are very ill and I know it isn’t much longer.  The entire thing has made me ponder what death really means for a believer.  As a staff member of a church I have been to a lot of funerals.  My favorite funeral moment was while attending a friend’s grandmother’s funeral in Tennessee.  I witnessed a conversation that went something like this:

*Young boy walks to the front of the sanctuary with an adult and looks at the casket.*

“I thought you said Granny was in heaven?”

“Yes, she is.”

*Kid blinks and looks back in the casket.*

“Then why did she come back?”

Great question, right?  As a child, I remember the idea of death and heaven being a strange mixture of over my head and terrifying.  I didn’t want to go to heaven.  Don’t get me wrong, I did not want the alternative; I just wanted to stay here.  I wanted the safety of what I know.  I wanted my bed, my house, my toys, and my mom.  God, however, doesn’t want that for me. He wants more.  He wants to give me peace and beauty….a place with no tears.

It seems as though in both life and death God is constantly calling us to let go of what we know and accept more.  

Not Forgotten

So, a couple of weeks ago I was having a really hard day.  I saw something about babies online and just lost it, sitting at my desk in my office.  I dried up my tears, packed my things, and left the office.  I got into my car and cried out to God.  I told him how mad I was about losing Liam. I told him about how upset I was that he hadn’t healed my body.  I told him that I didn’t understand.  I told him that I was afraid Liam was just forgotten.  I felt forgotten.  I screamed.  I cried.  Then I calmed down and finished my day

When I arrived home, there was a package for me.  I didn’t recognize the name on the box.  When I opened the box, I discovered a card from a woman I had never met.  She is a part of a Christian healthcare ministry that I am a part of.  She had seen my name listed as a person who had lost a child, and the Lord had placed it on her heart to reach out to me.  She told me her story of loss and then mentioned specifically several of the things that I had prayed about previously that day.  She enclosed an ornament in the box, telling me that my child was not forgotten, but was with our Father.

I think I read that letter two or three times before it sunk in.  I checked the postage on the package.  God knew I was going to have a hard day, so he spoke to this woman a week before so that this letter would get to me on the day that I needed to hear it. WOW.  That’s the God that I serve.  I just can’t chuck that up to coincidence or probability.  I can’t. 

I am not forgotten.  

Heart Like Hannah

I have not written much in the last week or so. It’s been a really tough week. The holiday was much harder on me than expected. In the last week or so:

• I have had someone tell me that I “need to hurry up” and get pregnant
• I have had someone ask if I had kids. (legitimate question…I am just not sure how to answer it anymore)
• I had someone ask me if I was ever going to have a kid
• My cousin lost a baby just a little further along than we were
• I had to watch my husband’s family ogle over a newborn for hours.
• I had someone (who never knew I was pregnant) ask me several times if I am losing weight and tell me that I look great
• I heard my congregation applaud when my coworker mentioned that he and his wife are having a baby
• It was pointed out to me that it is funny that I am so passionate about children and yet don’t have my own
• I

I think the worst part of losing a baby is the fact that you can’t talk about it. People say ignorant things like listed above and we just ignore it. We live in a world filled with families. So, you suck it all in. You deal with all the stressors and you bottle it up. Next thing you know you are crying at your desk at 9AM. (That was me today.) It’s funny, but in many ways it is getting harder as opposed to easier. I had a lot of support for the first week or two but now it almost feels as if life has gone back to normal and Liam is forgotten. People ask me how I am doing and by being honest with them, I felt like I put them in an awkward position.

Tonight I found comfort in reading the story of Hannah and Samuel. I relate a lot to Hannah. She longed for nothing more than to have a child. The Lord gave her a son, but she had to give him back to the Lord. In 1 Samuel 1:27-28, Hannah says, “For this child I prayed, and the Lord has granted me my petition that I made to him. Therefore I have lent him to the Lord. As long as he lives, he is lent to the Lord.” As I continue to heal, I pray that God gives me Hannah’s heart. I want to continue to trust Him with my child. I want to remember that he is lent to the Lord and that I will see him again.