There are two parts to this post. One part is some background on why this means a lot to me, and current inner dialog/things I’m hashing out and trying to put into action. Part two is where I am with the Lord right now and what He has been showing me through studying 1 Samuel.
(Grammar police, leave now. These are thoughts thrown together-not a formal paper : ).
Here we go...
Every year I face a uniquely difficult day in which choices have to be made. It is an anniversary date that is difficult to celebrate and remember, but one that continually pulls me closer to the Lord.
July 27, 2010 was the day I was given the news that I was almost 3 months pregnant! One short hour later I also learned that I was already losing that baby. That was a very dark day for me, and a defining moment in my relationship with the Lord. It started an open dialog with God that had never been really honest, on my part.
Much like another day I will now face every April(and honestly, every SINGLE day right now), there are choices to be made on these painful days. I’m going to share my choices, my inspiration and what my relationship with the Lord looks like, as I continually hash all of this out with Him.
I’ve always wondered what other moms who have lost children do on the days that feel like lifetimes. I know a lot of women who have lost babies(not “just” pregnancies), but I don’t REALLY know anything about those losses. Before my loss, I didn’t know what it really looked like to lose a baby. Nobody EVER talked about those babies, and what life looked like when they suddenly weren’t there anymore. I didn’t know how physically painful it was or how emotionally draining it was. I didn’t know there could be dozens of women in the same room as me, who had been in my shoes, and I could still feel totally alone in my experience. It is something that happens to so many, but is spoken of by so few. Grief and death are very personal and intimate in nature, and everyone deals with them in different ways. I respect that. There was one thing that was consistent-a recurring theme that I became aware of long before my first loss(and has been very obvious in the last three months). That theme is fear. Fear of what other people think, specifically.
*clears throat*
*steps onto soapbox*
(*Disclaimer*-This is not directed at anyone, just a general theme I've noticed and have experienced. I have had wonderful community through our grief and appreciate all they have done for us).
Grief and mourning make people uncomfortable. In some circles I’ve been in, they almost become taboo subjects. Since announcing Sophia’s death, countless people have reached out because they have gone through a loss-and have gone through it alone. They have been afraid. Afraid to really grieve. Afraid to walk that difficult road alone-so they don’t even try. The root of a lot of that fear comes from their own families. There is fear of what people will say, or even how the grieving person might respond themselves(grief hits out of nowhere). Grief can disarm you. There are triggers of all kinds. I cried in the middle of Costco recently. There was a new display of beautiful little tutus, surrounded by little girls and their moms. It hit me really hard that I won’t ever get to buy my baby girl one. I had imagined being that mom watching her daughter’s face light up. I never got to see Sophia smile. Ugly crying in Costco is something everyone should experience(not really), but you will quickly realize how socially unacceptable it is to have anything but a smile plastered on your face. You can see the terror in people’s eyes when they realize you’re hurting. It’s obvious that their little bubble just got really uncomfortable.
I for one, am already tired. I’m tired of people using fear to avoid grief themselves or to avoid walking with someone through grief. “I might say something to make her cry”, “I don’t know what to say”, “I don’t know how to talk to her anymore”. Guess what? You don’t have to say ANYTHING. It’s not your job to make her feel better. It’s not your job to make her grief look clean and tidy. Stop being afraid of making people “uncomfortable” or something being culturally “off limits” as an excuse to not roll up your sleeves and get real with people who need Jesus and need you. People need someone who is willing to put aside their fear of awkward situations and just dive in. Is it going to kill you to offer a meal? A smile? A silent but meaningful hug? People need others who are willing to just be there. You don’t have to talk. Maybe you just need to listen. You simply need to put yourself out there. There is a rough road ahead. That road is going to leave people crawling through the dirt some days. Are you willing to get dirty with them? Can you be that person for someone? Can you just show up? Can you use your own pain and suffering to encourage someone else? How can your honesty be used for impact? What if instead of telling someone, “I’m praying for you”, you said, “can I walk with you through this?” How different would suffering be if more people asked that question? Sometimes people can’t handle that question, and just need you to take some initiative. Talking might be hard for someone grieving. Everyone grieves differently, but most people have the same basic needs. Can you meet some needs? Yes, you can. Maybe just love bomb them until they are ready to tell you how you can walk with them. Don’t sit on the sidelines and watch someone struggle. We can do better than that.
This is me putting myself out there! My friends know that I am an open book, and I really do mean that. If something I’ve gone through can be used to encourage or help someone else, it’s on the table. If you have a hard question, ask away. If you need someone to walk with, speak up! We weren’t meant to go through this stuff alone. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only mom(person) who has needed someone in the middle of a crisis to look into my eyes and say, “you can be hurting, and still choose worship. He is still good,”
You don’t have to forget something, to need to be reminded.
We need reminders in our grief. Reminders push us closer to Him.
We need reminders in our grief. Reminders push us closer to Him.
I am not afraid of what people think about my grief. I’m just really starting to embark on that journey. My feet are just getting wet. My prayer is that my suffering can be used to point others to Christ, and that my honesty in conversations or posts will encourage you to have hard conversations with those around you.
*steps off soapbox*
Obviously I’m a fan of community. Get you some, ok? I love my people fiercely. They have loved me well. They have reminded me who I serve, they have rolled up their sleeves and crawled down in the dirt with me-but we don’t stay there. They pull me along, and we move forward. We can’t change what has happened, but we can choose who we are, and how we respond to our situations. My personal strategy for those days I am crawling in the dirt with people, looking up into the face of a Savior who knows my pain-is to choose to spend those days in worship. I choose to answer questions that people ask, honestly and openly. I don’t always wake up wanting to worship. I hate facing situations that will sting. I hate walking into rooms of people that I know are going to say things they don’t mean. Honestly, right now, I hate going to bed at night. I have to fight my thoughts with scripture and remind myself who I belong to. I need to remind myself who those sweet babies have always belonged to. I don’t always feel like praising God in my suffering. There are a lot of feelings, but if I don’t choose to speak truth to my soul, those feelings will run all over it. Surround yourself with the truth and people who know it, and can(will) speak it back to you.
Now, for what I’ve been chewing on and trying to apply to my daily life. I’ve been in 1 Samuel. We all know the story, but this story changed when I experienced the anguish and bitter weeping Hannah described, for myself.
Six years ago, before I knew I was pregnant with that first baby, Hannah’s words in 1 Samuel were challenging me. I could relate to her desperation. There was a very real possibility I would not be able to have a baby due to excessive scar tissue and PCOS. I spent many hours pleading for the desires of my heart. I knew that a child from God would always be His, but it hadn’t felt personal yet. After losing the baby I pleaded for, things got real...in the best way. God answered my prayers for more of Him. In that answered prayer, He also gave me more children. He didn’t stop there. In the more recent death of Sophia, He answered my heart’s biggest prayer-for her to know Him for herself. That is my prayer for all of my children! I think it is safe to say that she knows Him better than any of us do right now. I see God’s goodness in that.
His character has never been more real to me. The richness I experience when I spend time with him is intensely sweet. He has been exceedingly gentle with me in my suffering. I have never felt his presence so tangibly. I don’t doubt His goodness. I don’t doubt that His plan for my life is good, but I still have to speak truth and fight the lies that are so easy to believe.
I have spent the last month really digging in deep to Hannah’s psalm of praise in 1 Samuel 2. The entire book is rich with the character of God, but her Psalm is what I’m leaning on today. It has become my prayer.
Hannah's Prayer
2 And Hannah prayed and said,
“My heart exults in the Lord;
my horn is exalted in the Lord.
My mouth derides my enemies,
because I rejoice in your salvation.
2 “There is none holy like the Lord:
for there is none besides you;
there is no rock like our God.
3 Talk no more so very proudly,
let not arrogance come from your mouth;
for the Lord is a God of knowledge,
and by him actions are weighed.
4 The bows of the mighty are broken,
but the feeble bind on strength.
5 Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger.
The barren has borne seven,
but she who has many children is forlorn.
6 The Lord kills and brings to life;
he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
7 The Lord makes poor and makes rich;
he brings low and he exalts.
8 He raises up the poor from the dust;
he lifts the needy from the ash heap
to make them sit with princes
and inherit a seat of honor.
For the pillars of the earth are the Lord's,
and on them he has set the world.
9 “He will guard the feet of his faithful ones,
but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness,
for not by might shall a man prevail.
10 The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces;
against them he will thunder in heaven.
The Lord will judge the ends of the earth;
he will give strength to his king
and exalt the horn of his anointed.”
She pours out her heart to God. She isn’t calculated and perfect, she is honest and raw. Her psalm is full of truths, and she is declaring her devout devotion to God. There is thanksgiving for answering her heart’s prayer, while painfully placing that answered prayer back at His feet. His faithfulness in her past assured her of His continuing faithfulness. Hannah trusted the Lord to help her keep her vow.
There was grace for her in the midst of her suffering. She chooses to worship through her anguish. She chooses to declare the power and sovereignty of God, while prophetically praying for the coming King-who she just weaned. Hannah is not wallowing in her pain, focusing on herself, her suffering or her empty arms. She is focused on who God is. She is able to see him more clearly in her pain. His character is praised. She knows He is good. She starts by calling God Holy, and faithful, all knowing, gracious(ouch), all powerful, sovereign, able to change impossible circumstances.
What if He doesn’t change those impossible circumstances like you want Him to? I begged for Sophia’s life. My situation did not change, but I certainly did.
Does that sound like someone you can trust? Do you trust him? You can. Hannah inspires me to choose to worship the God who walks with and speaks to His people, in the midst of their suffering-not just before or after. My prayer is that in the midst of my suffering, I will choose to praise Him and embrace the freedom found in Him. I believe that my circumstances are not simply an open opportunity to call God’s character into question, but an opportunity to let Him continually transform me into someone who bears His image.
-Lyd
