Last night I was reminded of what life was like a year ago. It was the end of our second carefree summer as a married couple and Scottsdale was at the peek of it's heat. It was miserable to walk in, drive in, and live in. The nights cooled down, however, and brought with it the monsoons. We would turn off all the lights in the house, lay on our bed and watch the lightening display it's beautiful self across the city sky. It was magical. Often times we even opened our windows so we could smell the fresh rain hit the hot pavement.
This morning I thought back to August of 2008. It was a monsoon night and our electricity went out. We lit candles and opened up the screen door so we could listen to the thunder and smell the rain. I wish I could have seen where God would take us from then until now. One year ago tomorrow we mourned the loss of our unborn little one. It was too early to tell the sex of the baby, but I like to think it was a boy. We had only known for a total of two weeks so in many ways it felt like a wonderful vacation and the loss was the feeling you get when you return home and deeply miss the moments you had the week before. Our little bean was unplanned, yet planned and rejoiced over. Looking back, I was young and a bit naive of the depth that pain could go. It was a broken and hard process. I wish I could say that every painful event will result in something that will make the pain worthwhile, but I know that isn't true. Although the pain was real and heavy, it was comforted and carried by Christ. Those tender weeks after that would often end in a weepy mess, but I was reminded of Him and how I knew He could resonate with my pain.
Sometimes it doesn't help to have someone tell you how to deal with your hurt, but rather just be in the hurt with you. I'm still not sure why we lost our first little one, but I do know where he or she is and that he is safe there. This morning I felt the need to mourn the loss, but rejoice in the present. However painful, the experience drew me closer to Christ. These words felt/feel truer to me than ever before,
This morning I thought back to August of 2008. It was a monsoon night and our electricity went out. We lit candles and opened up the screen door so we could listen to the thunder and smell the rain. I wish I could have seen where God would take us from then until now. One year ago tomorrow we mourned the loss of our unborn little one. It was too early to tell the sex of the baby, but I like to think it was a boy. We had only known for a total of two weeks so in many ways it felt like a wonderful vacation and the loss was the feeling you get when you return home and deeply miss the moments you had the week before. Our little bean was unplanned, yet planned and rejoiced over. Looking back, I was young and a bit naive of the depth that pain could go. It was a broken and hard process. I wish I could say that every painful event will result in something that will make the pain worthwhile, but I know that isn't true. Although the pain was real and heavy, it was comforted and carried by Christ. Those tender weeks after that would often end in a weepy mess, but I was reminded of Him and how I knew He could resonate with my pain.
Sometimes it doesn't help to have someone tell you how to deal with your hurt, but rather just be in the hurt with you. I'm still not sure why we lost our first little one, but I do know where he or she is and that he is safe there. This morning I felt the need to mourn the loss, but rejoice in the present. However painful, the experience drew me closer to Christ. These words felt/feel truer to me than ever before,
"Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down"
Here we are, August 2009, and the
monsoons are welcomed once again.
Our setting, however, has changed a little. We now live beyond
those mountains and in the hills of Prescott and
we are welcoming our second little one into
our lives in November.
I feel undeserving, a little overwhelmed and ecstatic all at the
same time. It's a wonder that is possible to feel all of that at once.
Though time doesn't take away the loss of our little bean, it does
unveil my eyes to the beauty in the way He works.
Even if it hurts.
On another note, I found this song that has captured my attention. It is originally
by Wilco, but has been redone and put onto a baby lullaby cd. It's captivating
and beautiful. To do it true justice, you should probably read the post that I
read while I listened to it,
cjanerun
