For those of you who go to Vanguard, you may remember a
sermon series titled Raw to Real in 2010. You may also remember
how tragic and raw that year actually was for so many of us. As we have had time to process together in
the past week that is what I told Matt this year feels like for me. It feels like my own personal Raw to Real year. In God's infinite timing, sweet Candice had the boys over this morning to give me some extended journaling time. In that time, I looked back at my 2010 journal entries and compared it to 2012. The connections were surreal in a way that could only be ordained by HIS truly. RAW to REAL girls.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel
but it is so dim. As my cousin, who has
walked this journey, said to me the other day, you are going to come out on the
other side changed forever; I will walk out of the tunnel but I will never be
the same. God has begun speaking to my
heart about what some of the ways I will be changed are but it is going to be a
long journey.
You already know that we have been praying for 2 years
for God to take our family on an adventure.
So far it seems that whole journey has involved loss. We have sold our home in a bad housing market
which you can guess the loss that entailed, we lost a little boy at 9 weeks along
in January, we have moved out of the city which involves losses of its own, and
now in the midst of holding on for dear life and believing God is bringing joy
and adventure to our precious family for sacrificing, we have lost our second
little boy, this time at 15 weeks, an unthinkable sacrifice.
I am in a place where I can’t even bring
words together to share with you how I feel.
How do you describe how it feels to go into an ultrasound room and find
out you have lost another baby this year after being assured that wasn’t going
to happen, how it feels when the doctor
has tears in his eyes when he tells you and explains that this happens 1% of
the time in the second trimester, how it feels to be told you will be going
through labor and delivery at that point in your pregnancy, how it feels to be
in labor watching houses burn on the mountain from your hospital bed, how you
feel when your two closest friends and mentors who always have the words have
none and weep on the phone with you while you are in labor, how you feel when
the doctor announced it was a boy after wanting 5 boys since I was a little girl,
how it feels to leave the hospital early so that you can evacuate your family,
or how it feels to be in the process of finding out whether you can ever carry
another baby again.
Right now we are clinging to one another. We are embracing and kissing our boys. I am currently editing this post and sitting
at the table helping build a Lego 4-wheeler.
We just made some cookie sandwiches to eat on our rainy day. We are “just being”. That’s all our family can do right now. We can love, we can pray, and we can “just
be” together.
We are being held up by those who are praying for our
hearts and our family. We are being oh
so greatly blessed by those who are showing up, in what seems like small ways
to you I am sure, but great ways to us.
Matt was holding Moses at the back of church on Sunday. I looked back and saw Dave standing right
next to him. No words, just showing
up. I was sitting next to Laura crying
at the same time. No words, just showing
up. LG 65 brought us a big bucket of fun
games last week and a couple gift cards.
No words, just showing up. My
other Laura got me a coffee and took me out on the trail last week to hear my
heart. No words, just showing up. Ellen met me at the water park and we sat and
tanned our legs together. No words,
just showing up. "Because there aren’t any
words", as Ellen said. Mary again showed
up on my doorstep from 1,000 miles away to take me to coffee and make sure I
had a new pair of 3 inch heels. No
words, just showing up. Jessica picked
us up, got us all out of the house, and took us to the pool. No words, just showing up. Mama
makes me afternoon coffee every day and just sits near in case I need her. No words, just showing up. My dear husband holds me every night as I go
to sleep crying. No words, just showing
up.
There aren’t words right now. That’s the honest to goodness truth. John Marshall is gone, I held him, I said goodbye…I am
waking up each day reliving it, my husband praying over me for strength before
he leaves for work, and me braving the day with three smiling faces waiting for
me to answer the question, “what are we doing fun today?”
Here’s what I know in my heart though. I know
that I have all the words that have been sent to me recorded because once my
body comes out of the shock, I am going to NEED them. I know that I am loved and every time someone
shows me that they love me right now, I start crying. I know that I serve a powerful and amazing
Jesus who is going to turn my mourning into dancing and give me crown of beauty for
ashes, even if I can’t see it right now.
Thank you for journeying through our adventure girls. I can’t wait to share the beauty with you as
the Lord restores the brokenness…it’s coming.
“To all who mourn
in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise
instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that
the LORD has planted for his own glory.”
Isaiah 61:3
