I don't know if I've ever shared this story that I'm about to share about your death, but I find it on my mind tonight as I think about our hurting community. A community left with unanswered questions, shaken faith, and a gaping hole after the passing of a young newlywed and her unborn child. While I didn't personally know this woman, my heart is breaking for her family and friends. Writing you always soothes my heart, and so here I am.
I started reading a book called "The Circle-Maker: Praying Circles Around Your Biggest Dreams and Greatest Fears" right before I found out you were gone. I had taken the book with me to my appointment that morning, and as I sat in the waiting room anxiously waiting for the nurse to call my name, I read a chapter. With my heart still hoping that my gut feeling that something wrong was just first-time mom jitters, I began to make a list of all the things I should draw a circle around and start praying for you.
Fifteen minutes later, my worst fears were confirmed and my life was turned upside down. I honestly don't remember much about that day beyond going home and laying on the nursery floor sobbing with Daddy. I do remember waking up in the middle of the night, just hours before we were scheduled to deliver you, and feeling the urge to go pray in the nursery.
I spent an hour sobbing and offering up the most heartfelt prayers. Recalling what I had read earlier that day, I walked circles in your nursery, touching all the items that had been lovingly chosen for you. I prayed over each one believing that if I did, you would come home to them. I boldly proclaimed a miracle, and in those early morning moments, I believed that one would be granted.
The next morning, my faith wavered as I prepared to go to the hospital. It wavered so much that I didn't request the ultrasound that I had planned to request before the induction started to prove that my miracle had been granted. The miracle that I had believed in during those wee hours of the morning seemed so ridiculous just a few short hours later.
Anger is one of the well-known stages of grief, but for some reason, the anger hasn't come for me yet. However, the guilt and regret over what I should have done, prayed, realized, etc. has haunted me at times. Months after your birth, still deep in my grief, I wondered if the reason God didn't answer my prayers was because my faith had been too small. Because I hadn't prayed long enough or hard enough. Because I hadn't prayed for the right things. Because I didn't trust enough that God could do something impossible. My heart broke at the thought that I might have failed you by not praying boldly enough.
It's taken me time to move past my guilt. To realize that sometimes God hears us but doesn't answer our prayers in the way that we want. I don't know why. I trust that His ways are higher than our ways (Isaiah 55:9). People always say that when we get to Heaven, we can ask why, but I think when we get to Heaven it won't matter anymore. All the pain and hurt that we felt on this earth won't even be a memory.
I never finished the Circle Maker book. I honestly have no idea what even happened to my copy. I have prayed some bold prayers since your death though. Sometimes they've been answered in the way that I hoped, and sometimes they haven't been. In all cases though, I can tell you without a doubt that they have mattered. Even the ones that weren't answered in the way that I wanted. Somehow even those prayers have strengthened my faith and confirmed for me that we love a God who gives grace even when his answer is no.
I have experienced God's grace in the midst of my own grief so many times. I pray that those who are hurting so deeply tonight will feel God's arms wrapped tightly around them and that His presence and grace will be ever apparent in the coming days and weeks.
Love,
Mommy
Morris's verse - my go-to verse when I am in a place where I don't or can't understand.
Praying for consolation that brings joy.
No comments:
Post a Comment