Raw to Real

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