My heart

Thank you, friends, for your kind words of comfort after my last post.  Your comments, emails and Facebook messages have made me tearful with gratitude.  Thank you so much for your prayers and for your encouraging words.  Each of you has ministered to me and I thank you.

I have the sweetest readers.  (((hugs)))

There are so many thoughts and emotions swirling around in my head and heart and the way I process it all is to write.  I've been filling up pages in my journal (and then filling Mark in on all I've written) and I want to share some of it with you, too.  I hardly know where to begin so I'll just start and hope it's not too rambly.

On Christmas Eve I got sick (influenza), and have been very sick ever since.  As I write this it is January 9th, and I'm still sick.  Fever, chills, achy, and upper respiratory stuff.  I have coughed enough in the last two weeks that I'm certain I could win some sort of award if there was such a one, and I have slept very little because of it.  The kids got sick the weekend after Christmas- high fevers for days and everyone lethargic and needy.  (And my amazing [and healthy!] Mark- taking care of us all, should win his very own award.)

It is in this state of weariness and feeling so beaten down already, physically-- that we found out about the miscarriage.

So I have been feeling pretty low, and asking God~ Okay, what is it You want to teach me through all of this?  I have prayed that my eyes, mind and heart would be receive whatever lessons He wants to reveal to me through this trial; that I wouldn't miss it.  And He has been faithful to show me something.

I can feel very sad if I ponder this: Why would You give us this precious gift only to take it away?... Or when I doubt God's goodness: I should have known it was too good to be true... Or when I feel sorry for myself: But it takes us so long to even GET pregnant.  Years.  Or if I think of all that I will miss: how my belly was going to grow and the baby move within me, how I was going to get to see Mark holding a baby of ours again,.... just- all the many thoughts down that road.

I know that God does not mind my questions or my grief, but I have felt a check in my spirit when I have those kind of thoughts.  Very soon after we realized we'd lost the baby, I began to have thoughts of "It was too good to be true, I should have known it wouldn't really happen", etc.  And right away I recognized it as a lie from the enemy.  God is good.  Period.  He is a kind, loving Father, who loves to give good gifts to His children.  And this does not change that.  That's the truth.  I believe it.  I know Him, I know His character, and I trust Him.

I am learning so much by watching my kids.  I saw them grieve, hard- that first day.  Audra's heart-wrenching sobs, Ella's silent grief, Isaac's questions, Isaias' stunned silence....  But just hours later they were back to their play, their laughter, their imaginative creativity.  They live in the moment.  This one; the one right before them.  And they embrace it and delight in it and take joy in it.  They aren't concerned about tomorrow, or about what happened yesterday.  They were so quick to accept this new reality and move on.   I admire that in them.  They simply do not have the capacity to dwell on sadness.  It's just not in them. They are content, they feel secure, and they trust that all will be well.

So I see them and I am reminded to be the same way.  When I befriend my sorrows and sort of camp out with the sad thoughts of all that would or could have been, I feel very melancholy.  But when I remember God's goodness, when I rest in His word and His promises, when I remind myself of His character and His faithfulness, I am heartened.  When I choose not to not dwell on the past and not to worry about tomorrow, but live this moment, and trust Him, I am content.  So I am practicing this, purposing not to "go there" in my thoughts and arriving at a place of quiet acceptance.

Mark read me portions of Lamentations last night- this is one of his favorite passages in the whole Bible.  In chapter 3, Jeremiah is struggling with some seriously dark thoughts, talking about his great affliction and feeling like God's hand is turned against him.  He says things like "He has weighed me down with chains.  Even when I call out or cry out for help, he shuts out my prayer." Or, "Like a bear lying in wait, like a lion in waiting, he dragged me from the path and mangled me and left me without help."  He goes on and on like this, for eighteen verses.  And then, this:

I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.
I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.
Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."

I cannot identify with Jeremiah's dark thoughts- not to that extent.  But my heart lifts when he gets to the part of "Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope...." and goes on to tell of God's love and compassion and faithfulness.

YES.  That is what I am calling to mind, too.  I am resting in the truths of who He is.  The LORD is my portion; my all, and He is enough.