Everywhere around me, there seems to be loss. One blog leads to others, telling of lost children...death, miscarraige, a birth mother changing her mind about an adoption. There are news stories rife with parents killing their children, children being lost to drugs and alcohol.
It seems, as a parent, everywhere you look there is peril. At all times there is danger. At any moment there can be loss. It's enough to cause nightmares, fear, horror.
With my own recent loss I have battled mightily against fear. Fear that I won't ever carry a baby to term again. Fear that I failed my baby, that my body let him die. Fear that I did not keep him safe.
I fear for Lily at all times. I am always one step ahead, trying to keep her unharmed. But harm comes into every life. It is inevitable. Just the idea of this is enough to make my stomach hurt and my body to go cold.
I have said it before, but it bears repeating- I am not a Bible scholar. I know enough of it to find comfort, and often turn to scripture when I am lost. But I don't know enough to even say I have a base knowledge.
Today I was seeking comfort. Today the baby was on my mind. The idea of taking Lily to a huge place like Disneyworld and losing her was in my thoughts. Flying, as always, strikes me with terror. I was in need.
I've never read the book of Job all the way through, but in my search I came across it. I was immediately drawn to these verses:
18 While he was still speaking, another also came and said, "Your sons and your daughters were eating and drinking wine in their oldest brother's house,
19 and behold, a great wind came from across the wilderness and struck the four corners of the house, and it fell on the young people and they died, and I alone have escaped to tell you."
20 Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head, and he fell to the ground and worshiped.
21 He said,
"Naked I came from my mother's womb,
And naked I shall return there
The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away.
Blessed be the name of the LORD."
22 Through all this Job did not sin nor did he blame God.
My God in heaven. I was struck dumb at how Job reacted to the news of his children's death. He "tore his robe and shaved his head, and HE FELL TO THE GROUND AND WORSHIPPED"
Everything had been taken from this man, and still he says "blessed be the name of the Lord".
Wow. Let that sink in for a moment. He worshipped God upon hearing of his children's death. He grieved, oh yes, but he also worshipped. He blessed God. He did not blame God.
Oh what a few lines of scripture can do to a weary mother's heart. Like water to desert sand, I absorbed these words.
I have tried not to turn from God in my grief. I don't understand, and I am struggling with my own humanity to just LET IT BE. In my mind I know it is not up to me to know why my baby didn't get to live. I could give it up and rest easy in the promise that I will see him again...but some days, oh the sadness and anger is encompassing. I look at Lily and wonder what he would have looked like. I think of how big he would be now and how I would feel him growing each day.
But it was not meant to be.
How, though, can I be like Job? How can I worship in the very next breath from grief? How can I call him blessed when I am angry?
I don't know. I wish I did.
The best that I can do right now is simply let God know that I am trying. I am trying to come to peace. I am trying to worship in the midst of my disappointment. I am trying not to blame or ask why. I am trying to simply be joyful, and when I cannot be that, be thankful...and when I can't even be that, to be quiet and listen.
Because that is when God speaks to me. When I am worn down. When I stop running. When I sit in silence and let the tears come and let the worry bubble up. The fear and the uncertainty. And that is when He comes, and when I feel Him. It is when I know He cries with me for my loss, all of my loss.
I know he grieves with me. And for that reason alone, I know one day my wounded soul with grieve with one breath and worship with the next. My mouth will speak words of praise and blessings even while I cry for loss. And one day the reason why will simply not matter, and what IS will.