11/15/19 - What My Daughter’s Broken Arm Taught Me About Healing

11/15/19 - What My Daughter’s Broken Arm Taught Me About Healing

Today is November 15^th, a day when my husband and I should be celebrating our son’s third birthday but instead our baby is celebrating in Heaven. We are still on this side of Heaven waiting for God’s restoration of this broken world. Three years of ups and downs have taken us through the hard road of loss. I will admit that in many ways I am far from the place that I started in, and that is entirely by God’s gracious and healing hand. God has given me a greater understanding of what healing looks like and recently He showed me an important lesson about healing.


My two year old broke her arm this summer diving off the side of a slide. Why, you ask? Her five year old sister was at the bottom of the slide trying to catch her. Can you say stubborn?  The x-ray revealed that both bones in her right forearm were broken. We were assured the next day at her orthopedist appointment that toddlers heal much faster than adults and that she would be out of a cast in three to four weeks. That was glorious news to us since this incident occurred in the middle of the summer when all our girls wanted to do was swim in our pool.  We remained hopeful that after a month she would be able to take part in all of the fun water activities. (We had also gotten her a unicorn water table for her birthday which was 6 weeks away so it would be great to be able to use that, for goodness sake! And no, they wouldn’t give us a water-proof cast because she was too little for one.)


After 4 weeks in a cast, we visited the orthopedist again. We were told that her arm was in the healing process but was not completed yet. One of the bones was healed, but the other remained cracked at an angle which meant a cast for 3 more weeks. Ugh…cue a visit to Wendy’s restaurant for lunch to ease the disappointment!


Three weeks later, we saw another orthopedist who showed me her latest x-rays. In one position, the bones looked healed. In the other position, the bones were healing at an angle. Her bone had healed and was continuing to grow new bone around the area. The crack that had once been there had morphed into a triangle-shaped peak that had filled in the bone inside. It was thicker, larger, and stronger than it had been before it was broken, albeit a bit curved which they said would eventually heal in a year or so. (I would also like to add that the first thing we did after getting her cast off was go swimming in our pool. This was just a few days before her birthday so that she could enjoy her new unicorn water table.)


What I realized in the midst of this ordeal was that the healing process of loss is not always as you expect or anticipate it will be. Sometimes it is like my daughter’s broken bone. I expected it would heal faster. I thought it would heal to look as it had previously looked. I assumed it would heal in a straight line. I thought her arm would be “perfect” again. But God chose to heal it differently than I imagined. What God taught me was that even if it heals in a different position or a different way than I anticipated, God can make it stronger than it was because my God can literally do anything.


In a similar way, Jesus Christ asked God if He would heal His broken world another way than the cross. This is basis of Jesus’ prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane.  In Matthew 26:39b, Jesus prayed: “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” We know that His Father said no and that Jesus would have to endure the suffering of the cross in order to reconcile the relationship between God and the world. But Jesus still prayed this prayer knowing that He would have to submit to His Father regardless of the answer...and He probably already knew the answer before He spoke the prayer. He had already planned to obey, submit, be humble to God's plan through suffering, sadness, rejection, and pain with which no one else can even fathom or sympathize. 


Our story of sin in the Garden of Eden and all of the brokenness that resulted was redeemed by Jesus Christ after this prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. The entire world went from being CURSED in Eden to BLESSED on the cross. If the world had never become broken, even though our sin tore God’s heart apart, we would never know God’s amazing power of forgiveness, love, and redemption. I am not trying to downplay the pain and heartache that God and Jesus endured. I am merely stating that God can take something that is so broken and so beyond repair and make it stronger than it could ever have been if it had never been broken.  

So what does my idea of “perfect” look like in comparison to God’s idea of “perfect”? Maybe…just maybe…God’s idea of “perfect” is His healing work in your brokenness which will make the blessings on the other side (even if that means waiting until Heaven) even more sweet and glorious. And maybe God can make you stronger than you previously were if you had never been broken. What could be more perfect than Jesus Christ dying for our sins on the cross? Yet it did not feel perfect physically to Jesus, but spiritually, He knew the wonderful, perfect blessings that stood on the other side of this pain in Heaven. Isaiah 53:5 states: “He (Jesus) was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed.”

 


Wishing the brokenness away would likewise wish away the amazing healing act that God has done. This is the power of the cross – a painful portrait of Jesus’ brokenness for the healing of a sinner like me. And let’s not forget that the best part of Jesus’ death was when He rose again three days later. In the same way, I wouldn’t wish away my little boy in Heaven and the hope of seeing him someday for anything. 

Happy 3^rd Birthday, Kenneth John!

05/10/2019 - When Your Absence Is Most Obvious

Dear Little One,


This time of year always reminds me of your absence.  Your sisters are now 7, 5, and 1.  But all I can think of is 7-5-3-1.  That is how old all of my children should be.  But you are not.  When people ask how old my children are, there is a hesitation.  There should be a 3 year old. However, you are stuck in time, forever my baby, at 3 years old in my heart and in Heaven…but not on earth or in my current version of reality.  You have spent 1,092 days in Heaven, at least from my earthly perspective.  I assume time is measured differently in Heaven though.  I think it is like the saying: “time flies when you are having fun.”  Or maybe it is like when you are with someone you love.  You just do not notice what time it is.  However, Earth is different.  Down here, I count the days that you would have been alive and measure the hours we have missed together.  My best efforts at memories appear one-sided and empty.  In my grief, I see a muddied picture of our love.  I wish that I could have done so many things with you on earth. I think of all of the things you never did, places I wanted to take you, songs I wanted to sing to you, ways I wanted to show my love for you instead of this luggage of grief that I now carry.  I insist to God that my grief would be easier if things had happened differently.  (Here I am bargaining with the Creator of the Universe!)  But honestly, would things be different if I had had a certain amount of days with you?  I struggled with this feeling for quite a while.  I prayed to God to give me peace and comfort in some way, shape, or form.  I could not understand how God could rectify the fact that I never was able to spend one day with you.  I felt cheated in a way which fueled my anger.  I did not get:                 with my child; fill in the blank.  (Here I am trying to bring the focus back to myself and not to the infinite, eternal Ruler of the Universe!) 


ONE DAY, I received my answer from God whose patience with me still astounds me.  The Holy Spirit brought a scripture to mind.  It was Psalm 84:10: “Better is ONE DAY in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.”  That is when it hit me.  Even if I had spent time with you on earth, even if you had been here for 1,092 days, none of it would be able to compare to the glory of Heaven.  I think life would have been good or amazing if…this or if…that.  But that is a lie. This world is cursed by sin.  This world would never be able to give you what you have now: ultimate peace, love, comfort, and eternal rest with our Sovereign God. It would be selfish of me to try to steal you away from such an amazing place in order to bring you to this less than perfect, flawed world. 


Little one, let me tell you what else God has shown me.  A few weeks ago, rain had fallen daily for a full week.  (Wait a second, does rain even fall in Heaven?...I have no idea.)  Nonetheless, I found myself yearning for the sun’s rays of light.  Then, after a week of rain, one evening, the sun came out and a beautiful rainbow arched across the horizon, followed by a beautiful sunset.  Until that moment, I had forgotten that this rainbow is God’s promise that He will never again flood the entire earth as recorded in the Bible’s account of Noah in Genesis.  I realized as I watched that beautiful rainbow that even during times when I cannot see a rainbow, God’s promise still stands.  Even if it is raining.  Even if it is not raining.  Even if I believe it or not.  The promise that God gave us is still real and alive even if I am unable to see it.  The fact that it is visible does not change whether the promise is true.  In the same way, you, little one, are real even if I am unable to see you right now.  You matter and are significant and important to me even if you are not visible.  You are valued and loved by me, but more importantly, you are valued and loved right now by the Almighty King of Kings and Lord of Lords more than I could ever love and value you here on earth.  I need to remember the fact that these truths are always active even when the evidence is not right in front of my face because ONE DAY, I will experience the full depths of God’s truth and promises when I get to Heaven.



I must remember that the “Greater” is coming.  In 2 Corinthians 4:17, the apostle Paul states: “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.”  To think of losing you as light and momentary would on the surface appear to trifle my feelings and the value of what I lost, you.  But rather, to believe such a thing would be breath-takingly wonderful!  To think that Heaven will be infinitely better than earth is a comfort.  It shows how utterly amazing and awesome Heaven is going to be and how utterly amazing and awesome God is.  1 Corinthians 2:9 states: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no heart has imagined, what God has prepared for those who love Him."  Likewise, Isaiah 64:4 states: “For since the world began, no ear has heard and no eye has seen a God like you, who works for those who wait for him!”  Our finite minds cannot even comprehend what awaits God’s people, and that ‘waiting’ is faith.  If everything was completely crystal clear, faith would not be necessary.  The very fact that life is messy and our view is muddied forces us to either believe or not believe.  It takes faith to believe something that is not fully clear.  1 Corinthians 13:12 says: “For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” I will see God face to face ONE DAY.  I will see you face to face ONE DAY.  All of the Biblical truths that we believe will come to pass ONE DAY.  My faith will be made sight ONE DAY.  Yours already is.  Mine will be there ONE DAY, little one. 

 


                                                    
                                                    Love, Mommy

11/15/2018

Our baby in Heaven would have turned two years old today.  We should be planning a birthday party.  We should be chasing around a kid who gets into everything and makes messes everywhere.  We should be getting upset because that little one breaks things and drives us crazy.  But we are not.  And we are sad.  Death is sad.  Death is hard.  Death hurts.  Death is…yuck and muck of all kinds!  However, I am recently starting to see a new side to death.   

I used to despise the season of autumn.  It gets colder and cloudier.  Everything begins to die: the grass, the trees, the flowers.  It is the foreboding season of eventual fate leading into a wintery death.  Yay, Happy Fall, y’all!  Just joking.  😉  However, this year, I have been enjoying it for the first time because I know that once everything dies, it will some day be reborn again.  It will come back to life eventually in the spring and summer where it will live again and be fruitful.  Therefore, I can appreciate the current state of autumn because I know that there will be a better state in the future.  In the same way, I can appreciate this broken and death-filled world because there will be a time when all things will be reborn, renewed, and brought back to life in Heaven.  This season, this cursed world will turn around and everything will change for the better.  I was once grappling with God about our baby in Heaven, and I remember that He told me: “I make all things new” (Revelation 21:5).  Ah, He really does.  That cuts deeply within my soul.  I find rest in that verse.

And now I realize death is actually God’s mercy for us.  In Genesis Chapter 3, Adam and Eve sin and thus corrupt God’s perfect world.  Subsequently in Genesis 3:22, God made sure that Adam and Eve would not live forever in this broken, corrupt state.  Therefore, God was being compassionate and merciful to them by preventing them from living forever in this state of constant suffering and turmoil.  That is blessing.  That is mercy.  That is love from a God who cares.  We only see one side of the coin, but God sees death as more than what it is in the moment.  He sees it as an opportunity for restoration and deliverance, to have a “happy ending” of sorts and to attain what God had always meant life to be in His eternal glory.  Death brings about new life.  We can see this in Jesus Christ’s sacrifice for our sins on the cross.  His death brought life to those who believe in Him, and we will one day be united with Him in Heaven.  Hallelujah to that!

I was once pruning the bushes and plants in my garden.  While I was doing it, I could sense the Holy Spirit asking me why I was pruning the branches.  I responded with the fact that I know the branches will grow back and that I don’t want them to get overgrown.  Then the Holy Spirit impressed on my heart that this was why He prunes our hearts and souls – to prove our faith, to grow our faith, and to see God for who He truly is.  The branches will come back.  The leaves will turn green again.  The flowers will bloom again.  The cycle of life will continue.  Life itself will be renewed.  All of creation will once again sing of God’s glory.  But we must wait.  My favorite new word to combine with “waiting” is “eagerly,” not impatiently, not angrily, but “eagerly” with anticipation in all of your soul and being.  Galatians 5:5 says: “For through the Spirit we eagerly await by faith the righteousness for which we hope.”  That is what I wait for now – God’s heavenly ending.  And it is painful right now to wait, and it is difficult right now to wait.  But I wait with eager anticipation for the next season, the better one, and the eternal one: the life God meant for us to live in the first place.  

(On a side note, I recently became interested in art.  I always thought that I was bad at art even with a mother and grandmother that were very talented in this area.  This is how powerful the mind is.  I told myself that I couldn't, and so I didn't.  When I was younger, I would get very upset when the picture I made did not look like the image I had in my mind.  I wanted my picture to be perfect in an effort to be in control.  Ah, that word control has so much weight to it.  We are never really in control of anything in life, to be honest.  We think we are, but we are not.  Flash forward to many years later, I realize that my artwork will not be perfect, much like life.  It will not be perfect, but we can make the most of what we are given.  As I paint and draw now, I realize that the mistakes and imperfections can be part of the picture.  Even more, imperfections can be part of my life, but my life can still be beautiful.)

04/01/18

When the Tomb and the Womb Are Empty

My daughter brought home a plastic, yellow Easter egg from school.  She showed it to me, holding it in her hand, open and empty.  I asked her what had been inside, assuming it had been some sort of candy that had immediately been eaten because that is usually what happens at our house.  She said: “Nothing was inside because Jesus’ tomb was empty on Easter.” 

Ah…the empty tomb.  The resurrection.  The conquering of death.  Jesus’ friends and disciples all assumed his body was still inside the tomb.  That is where they had left him.  Why wouldn’t He be there?  Let’s face it: Jesus was especially good about not doing what people expected, even after He had told them it would happen!  Aren't we all naïve?!The next day, I found a picture of myself from springtime two years ago.  I started to think about how empty my womb had felt after we lost our baby then.  The open expanse of hollow, negative space.  The loud echo of life's sadness within my soul.  That had been where my child was.  I knew God put him there.  But life doesn’t always turn out as we expect.    

What do the tomb and the womb have in common?  That which was once dead inside is now alive!  1 Corinthians 15:20 states: “But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen.”  If it were not for the empty tomb, my womb would not be redeemed, my baby would not (right now, in fact) be in Heaven, and I would not be able to one day meet that child.  My baby, born into Heaven, is loved by God more than I can imagine…more than I could ever love that child on earth…and all because of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross.  Romans 5:8-10 states: “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!”  Death and life… good and bad…lost and found...summed up in Jesus’ sacrifice.  The dichotomy between the simplicity of the cross and the complexity of the cross are exposed on this day…the good, the bad, and the spiritual face off in the ultimate war that was won by Christ who overcame death. 

If it wasn’t for the empty tomb, I would not have had any hope when I had an empty womb.  Just like Easter, we know that spring is coming when all things will be brought back to life.  The rejuvenation happens once again.  The dead plants bloom, the grass becomes green, the trees produce leaves and fruit.  No, I don't have a toddler running around, grabbing Easter eggs this year.  But I will meet him in Heaven one day.  So if you find yourself with an empty “Easter egg” today in whatever area of life you are facing right now, know that God will fill it, if not in this life, then in the next with His lovingkindness and His glory. 

12/29/17

What I Didn’t Expect the Day My Rainbow Baby Was Born

My little rainbow baby is four months old now, and I still can’t believe that God gave us this sweet, little blessing - Joyelle Moriah.

Joy – for finding happiness in the midst of a storm

Moriah – for the mountain on which Abraham was to sacrifice Isaac - because that is how I felt when we lost our third baby.

Since finding out we were expecting in January 2017, I couldn’t help but wonder when this pregnancy would end too.  It was hard to enjoy any aspect of the experience as I felt like this child would inevitably be taken away as our last baby had.  People would congratulate me on the pregnancy, but I felt as if the words passed right through me.  I would smile and thank them, but I could never feel the assurance in my heart that I would be able to hold this child on earth.  I consistently would white-knuckle the ultrasound table, and I had to remind myself to keep breathing each time the doctor used the doppler to check for the heartbeat.   I couldn’t look at the ultrasound until I saw the reaction on the technician’s face – waiting to see whether it was good or bad.  I was happy to make it to each subsequent week but constantly wondered how long until my life would be shattered again.  And then, at 34 weeks, my water broke. 

A Bible verse popped up on my phone that morning, as one does every morning.  As I was lying in the hospital terrified of what the future held, I saw that the daily verse was THE verse, the one that used to be so dear to me but instead for the past year and a half had caused me grief.  Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”  Ugh.  The weight of that verse felt heavier that day.  I quickly closed the app and put my phone away.  I did not want to think about how this situation was going to be good for me, how it would mature me, shape my faith and spiritual walk.  I felt the truth in the C.S. Lewis quote: “We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.” 

The next day, a new verse popped up.  It was Philippians 1:6: “being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”  I thought “Come on, God!”  This was also a heavy verse for me over the last year.  How could God start something and not finish it?  How could He make my child and then not let him or her be a part of my life?  And would He do it again?  Would I have to go through it all over again?  I knew that I will meet my children in Heaven and possibly this one too.  I knew in my mind that I had to look at my life through God’s perspective and not my shallow, blind, earthly view.  However, it still felt like salt in the wound to read this verse at such an uncertain time. 

My friend and I had just finished reading “The Problem of Pain” by C.S. Lewis.  In it, the most memorable passage for me spoke about how miracles in our earthly lives are rare.  We all expect it, but it does not happen often.  I could connect with this principle, not as a pessimist but rather as one who understood the reality of life.  I had taken off my rose-colored glasses. 

I certainly did not expect to have our daughter 5 weeks early.  After Joy was born, we found out that she almost didn’t survive.  Unbeknownst to us all, my placenta had ruptured, and the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck.  My doctor said that if she had stayed in utero until she was full term she would not have made it.  At that moment, I knew…thank you, God, for breaking my water.  We didn’t know, but God knew.  If that doesn’t give perspective and hindsight right there, I don’t know what does.  When I heard that, I knew: God had moved a mountain.  I did not expect God to move a mountain.  He certainly did not HAVE to move it.  He is never required to move our earthly mountains…answer our prayers…but He had.  I did not expect God to work in such a big earthly way for this child. 

Then I wondered: How do I reconcile why God moved in such a big way for this child but not for the last child?  Why is the baby I expected to be here…not…and the one that I did not expect to be here…here?  I could feel the happiness of having this child coupled with the heartache of not having our third child.  It was bittersweet.  And I did not expect to cry, and I did…for my baby in Heaven…for this baby…for what our family could have been…for the future…for the unknown.  I just wanted to look ahead and know that it would all be okay.        

I did not expect to finally see the “good” in Romans 8:28.  Yes, God worked in a big way to bring Joy here to us.  And I don’t want to admit it, but yes, God DID move in a big way for the baby we lost last year – although it was not how I had expected.  He moved in my spiritual life and by bringing love from family and friends – new and old.  He changed my attitude and made me realize what is truly important in life.  What I once described as “infinite sadness” God changed that day to “infinite gratefulness.”  And of course, He was there with me through every step of the journey.  I thank God for Joy.  I thank God for all of my children – on Earth and in Heaven.  I thank God for the good that came out of the bad, even when I do not want to admit it.  God didn’t have to move this mountain, but He did.  Don’t get me wrong; there is still sadness in my heart, but there is something more – there is joy.     

06/20/17

Beautiful sight this evening.  I hope you saw it if you live near me.  A full rainbow and the beginning of a double rainbow.  God’s amazing handiwork.  We took the girls out on the porch to see it, even though it was raining…and they were supposed to be in bed.  We were all in awe.  (My three year old said that she wanted to slide down it!)  Pictures do not do it justice, and honestly, I could not get the entire rainbow to fit in the picture!  It is fitting that God sent this rainbow tonight of all nights. 

First of all, Biblically, the rainbow is a promise from God that He will never destroy the earth with a flood.  In Genesis 9:16, God said: “Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth.”  A promise.  And God will remember it every time He sees a rainbow.  That resonated with me.  Just prior to seeing the rainbow, I was reading a Bible story to my daughters.  The story focused on Miriam and her concern for her baby brother’s welfare as he floated down the Nile River in a basket.  One specific part spoken by Jochebed, Moses and Miriam’s mother, left me in tears: “We have to let go of all the things we’re scared of.  We have to trust that God will take care of our baby” (Nellist, Glenys. Love Letters from God: Bible Stories. Grand Rapids, MI: Zonderkidz, 2017. Print.).  Although this is a partly fictitious Biblical account for children, can’t you imagine her saying that?  I thought about the poignant and heart-breaking goodbye Jochebed would have given to baby Moses when she thought she would never see him again.  Any mom could imagine that, and many have had to do so in this life.  Gut-wrenching.  Cue the waterworks. 

Secondly, today I am 27 weeks pregnant with our rainbow baby, and we are trusting God that we will be able to hold this little girl in 13 more weeks.  To say this pregnancy has been emotionally difficult would be an understatement.  The baby we lost would have been 7 months old last week, and it seems everywhere I go lately, I see babies that age.  Memories and worries hit me often, and God knew that being a visual person, I needed this reminder of His promise and also a reminder to trust in Him.

TRUST.  Ugh…this is a hard one for me.  I like to be in control; I believe in the American dream, for goodness sakes!  However, I actually have very little control over my life in comparison to God’s control over my life.  The more I think about that statement, the more I realize it is a good thing!  But in the meantime, God keeps telling me to TRUST, even when it’s hard.  TRUST, even when it’s sad.  TRUST, even when it is difficult work.  TRUST, even when you think you cannot continue.  I can still see the rainbow as I look out my window, although it is changing into a lovely pink-purple combination within the medium blue clouds.  As it fades, I remember God’s promises.  The promise of reunion, the promise of life eternal, the promise that God will never leave us, all of the promises that have not been fulfilled yet.  On that day, we will get to stand in God’s presence and see all of the promises come into completion.  I look forward to this day, but until then, I am choosing to TRUST.

05/10/17

Exactly one year ago, I began my grief journey.

1 year – 12 months – 52 weeks – 364 days – 525,600 minutes.

And I have felt the weight of every single minute.  It is strange how something which happened so long ago can be so strongly engrained in a person’s memory.  It still hits me like a freight train sometimes, like getting the wind knocked out of me.  No one expects to walk in for their 14 week prenatal appointment and hear the words “no heartbeat.”  When you lose a child, you miss out on so much: the milestones, the “firsts,” the birthdays, the hugs and kisses.  My grief was wrapped up in not only the loss of a child but the loss of life experiences with that child.  It is not about forgetting but about remembering.  Yet my grief more often than not ended up in a mangled, twisted ball of confusion.  In fact, it felt like I had fallen down a rabbit hole.   

Since I was a little girl, I have always been captivated by the story of Alice In Wonderland.  Published in 1865 by English mathematician Charles Lutwidge Dodgson under the pen name of Lewis Carroll, it received great success and is known still today as a classic children’s book.  There are many movies, plays, musicals, etc. that depict varied off-shoots of the original, and trust me, I fell in love with them all.  But as I began my grief journey, I started to realize the unintentional connection I felt to Alice.  Like Alice, I had tumbled down a rabbit hole into a strange new and confusing world where everyone was “mad” or sometimes thought of me as the “mad” one.    

After entering this world, Alice experienced changing shape from normal size to small, then to large, and then back to small again.  I remember when I first heard the shocking news in the ultrasound room, the whole space expanded.  The walls got farther and farther away and the ceiling lifted higher and higher.  I felt as if the world around me was growing bigger and swallowing me up in it.  In Chapter Two, Alice swims in the pool of her own tears.  Need I say more on this subject!  Then there is the Mad Tea Party where the characters rotate seats and perform mundane tasks for no reason at all.  When grief is involved, the daily act of life is much more monotonous, and life keeps moving even when you don’t want to move. 

Not to mention the Cheshire Cat…who sometimes helps guide Alice and sometimes confuses her more.  At the beginning of my grief, I felt like that was God, dragging me around a chess board, deciding where I should go like a pawn about to be sacrificed in order to strategize for the team.  Disappearing and reappearing at random, smirking at me with his curled-up smile.  But now I realize that is absolutely false.  That is what I thought at the time, based on my feelings, and we were never meant to govern our life by our emotions.  Now that I look back, I realize how God was comforting me, encouraging me, making me part of His plan all along the way.  Joni Eareckson Tada, in her introduction for the book “Scars That Have Shaped Me” by Vaneetha Rendall Risner (which I highly recommend by the way), explains that we do not always see God’s hand in the midst of difficult times until we peer over our shoulder and look back at our life.  It is only then that we see how God carried us with His amazing grace.  He allowed me to hurt so deeply that only He could be the one to help.  It may have been confusing at the time, but God sees it all as crystal clear, unmuddied by the world’s demands and criticisms.  No, God is not the Cheshire Cat to me anymore; He has walked with me in the darkest valleys.  The Bible verse that has consistently come to my mind is Psalm 23:4: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”    

When I was a child, the character I was most terrified of was the Jabberwock from Through the Looking Glass.  A make-believe creature which is dragon-like with “claws that catch” and “jaws that bite,” it originated from Lewis Carroll’s poem titled “The Jabberwocky.”  Honestly, I was pretty much terrified of mostly everything as a child, but that is an entirely different blog post.  In my grief, I felt like I was stuck on the side of the mirror with the Jabberwock tormenting me and keeping me fearful of the future, my children on earth, what would happen in my life.  I remember a desperate scene in a movie reconstruction of Through the Looking Glass in which Alice can see her mother and her real life on the other side of the mirror.  She hits and bangs on the mirror, all while shouting and crying for her mother to see her, but she is separated from her.  I felt that way with my grief…as if I could see my old life in my past, and all I wanted was to get back there, to walk through the mirror to the other side and be with my child.  Yet nothing in my power could achieve that. 

Much like Alice's world, the world in which we live is inverted.  God never planned it to be this way.  Things are very different now than on Day One of the world.  However, human beings chose to leave God behind and take their own path which lead to death and destruction.  The only way this inverted world will ever become right side up again is in Heaven through the work of Jesus Christ on the cross.  And so I wait (somedays more patiently than others) for that day, when I will see my baby again in Heaven.  Just a year ago, my baby was inside me, and now, he or she is waiting for me in Paradise. 

One year may feel like a long time...but not in comparison to eternity.