Somebody asked me the other day when my blog became a "God blog". I didn't know how to answer. I considered a few things, but they weren't very christian, so I simply said- when I realized I needed God and was going to seek Him.
The date- Jan 26th, 2009. The day there was no heartbeat on the sonogram.
The loss of my baby was a blow to me in so many ways. It brought up a tremendous amount of old emotion, like dredging up an old river. Many things floated to the surface I hadn't seen in a long time- things I repressed, things I forgot. Anger, bitterness, disappointment, enduring sadness. All of it rose up in me at once.
I was not prepared for the flood. It took me under.
I've been through alot. Things that are a given for alot of people weren't for me. Food, home, a place to sleep, safety. Through ALL OF IT I believed. I never stopped. Oh I got angry with God. I turned my back. I gave in to bitterness. But I believed in Him through it all.
Then I lost my baby. For months before hand I had called to him, and prayed for him. I spoke to him, asked him to come to us. Told him we were ready for him. Told him we loved him. I loved him before he was conceived. I knew him before he had a body.
And on a snowy Christmas Eve in Nebraksa, he was created. I thought that was so special. A Christmas Eve baby. I thought it was a sign. We would tell him when he was old enough of how he came to be. Mark and I would always know that he was made in love, after a day spent rejoicing in the birth of our Savior.
But it wasn't meant to be. And I was pissed off. I screamed at God, raged at him that how DARE he touch my baby??? How DARE he let him live to have a heartbeat and then take him???
And I have glided between anger, sadness, resignation and acceptance ever since.
But I realized something yesterday. Mark and I were leaving church, after a sermon that touched us both. We have been talking more and more about God, and our live spent in Him. We have been having long conversations about why we lost our baby.
In the car as we were going home I asked Mark if he thought we would be going to church if we hadn't lost the baby. He said no. I asked if he thought he would treasure Lily or our relationship as much. He said no. I asked if he would know how special a baby truly was and he said no. I agreed with him.
And I found myself saying "Then Joshua fulfilled his purpose, didn't he?".
And for the first time, there was no bitterness, or anger, or sadness in that. He came, and he left, but in so doing he healed Mark and I. He knitted us up together so close that we cannot ever see being apart. He made us treasure our Lily. He helped us to realize that when a new baby does come, we will KNOW what a gift it is.
And last but not least, he brought us both back to Christ. Fully. In word, deed, and spirit.
And all in all, that is a great accomplishment for such a little soul.
HE HAD A PURPOSE.
Am I still sad? Oh yes. But bitterness and anger are seeping away. My life changed on a dime the day we lost him. Things it may have taken us years to learn we learned in just a few short months. We are a different family now.
So here's the thing. My son is gone. I still mourn. But I am choosing to not write about him anymore. He is missed, and loved. I will think about him, always. But it's time to give myself rest.
So maybe this blog will keep being a "God blog". Or maybe it will go back to what it was- a mishmash of many things. Or maybe my 2 faithful readers will find somebody funnier and I will be tossing out my stories only to the blogosphere. I don't know.
Keep checking back. One day you might find the old me here. :)
