Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Through the Rear View Mirror

Twenty years ago today, at about this same time of the morning, I was in a surgery recovery room. Mourning. Weeping. Hurting.

My twin babies had gone to be with Jesus. The babies I had seen only through the lens of a sonogram. The babies I had nurtured in my womb for four months and in my heart for years.

My physical pain was significant, but my emotional pain was overwhelming. Bereft. Bereaved. Bewildered.

The pain gave way to anger, confusion. I tend to process information internally – as opposed to my husband, Writer, who talks all the time processes information externally. The thoughts in my head were jumbled, messy, condemning.

Why? Why me? What was wrong with my body? Thirteen-year-old girls were able to do this, why couldn't I? Thirteen-year-old girls were disposing of their babies in abortion clinics and dumpsters. I had been a "good girl." Why had God not seen that? Why had He not honored that? Why had He not protected my babies?

No one knew what to say. My mother drove 250 miles through the night to be with me before I went into surgery. Our pastor loved on us and prayed with us. Friends brought food (hey, it's the South. Food is ALWAYS appropriate!!!).

The grief was unbearable. It settled on me. Hovered over me. Never fully lifted. Until.

Until I allowed Jesus to bring healing. Until I allowed Him to speak the truth to my heart. Until I allowed His redemptive work – even in or especially in – the midst of terrible circumstances.

Slowly, and after additional miscarriages, I began to understand that my heart's desire was to be a mother. That my children didn't need to look like me or Writer. Didn't need to have his blue eyes or my brown hair.

No longer was I limited to what we could produce (yes, it's a double entendre). I had the vastness of God's love and His good plan for me – His plan not to harm me, but to give me a hope and a future.

So, this morning I wept for the loss of my precious babies. Then my mourning turned to dancing as I rejoiced over Ballerina and Sketcher. One who hears music like I do and one who walks (and talks) like Writer.

This sustained me:

I would have lost heart, unless I had believed
That I would see the goodness of the LORD
In the land of the living.
(Psalm 27:13, NKJV)

This is to encourage you today:

Wait and hope for and expect the Lord;
be brave and of good courage
and let your heart be stout and enduring.
Yes, wait for and hope for and expect the Lord.
(Psalm 27:14, Amplified)


3 comments:

M/J Granata said...

Joy... thinking of you today! What sweet and pure words... I will be reading them daily! Thank you.
Can you send me your email so that I can add you to my blog list...?
julesg1018@yahoo.com
Julie, Empty Season...:)

Meg said...

What a terribly sad sad story, but what amazing insight and strength you have gained. Thank you so much for sharing it.

Lizaveta said...

Joy,

Though this is one of your older posts, it spoke so much to me. Especially the part about "what's wrong with my body"...Thank you.

Also, thank you for visiting my little blog. :)

In Christ,
Liz