In the past couple of months, we have sold our first home and settled into a new little palace and city. Palace is also code for split-level—and we love it. The increase in size, the finished-ness (made-up word of the day), and the location make life a bit easier for our growing little family. But man, moving is work and busy and creates an entirely new list of projects to accomplish. The icing on the cake? I’m due to deliver our little girl within the next couple of weeks. Whirl. Wind.
My Achy-Breaky Heart
Throughout this busy season in our lives (a.k.a. every season for all of forever), I’ve scarcely taken the opportunity to take a good look at my heart. It’s been easy to fly through each day without considering the whys and hows of what God has walked us through in the past year. I’ve discovered that when I fail to slow down and take stock regularly, my heart begins to do funny things.
I’d find myself inexplicably sad one day, unable to pinpoint what was weighing down my soul. Then I’d become consumed with fear about this baby, wishing she’d come early because I felt she was safer outside of me than in my seemingly precarious womb. My heart was a piece of glass, webbed with fractures and simply waiting for a flick of emotion to shatter it. (Plus: pregnancy hormones. *shudder*)
Was. Is. It’s a work in progress. But this trusting and surrendering is difficult. Painful. Sometimes I feel like a broken record, coming before God with my questions always slightly different but so alike the one before it. The what-ifs can be overwhelming and the lack of control I actually have over my life mentally cripples me when I let my perspective wander.
Reminders of Grace: Sleep. Sun. Chocolate. Life.
And then there are reminders of grace and hope in spite of my fears and doubts. A dangerous condition in this pregnancy resolves. I get a good night of sleep (sometimes it’s the little things…). There’s a breakthrough at work for either Ethan or myself.
Life is good. Life is blessed. It’s hard and messy and angry and sad, but there’s so much beauty and light weaved throughout the tapestry that it’s worth it. So I keep breathing in the beauty and expelling the darkness, because, with Him in me, darkness must flee, right? That’s the glory of it all.
And I think it’s another part of our healing process. It would be easy to become jaded, cynical even. Building walls comes naturally and my sinful heart-nature instinctively cocoons itself so that all I see is darkness and stagnant half-truth. Life blurs as one day melts into the next and I forget to remember the extraordinary call on my life.
I, we, my family: deemed worthy of suffering. Called to suffer the loss of a child, a son. And then another. Not an uncommon story, but one close to the heart of the Father. We were brought low in order to be lifted high. Our hearts were crushed so that they could be raised up to pulsating life, blinded by pain in order to see more clearly. There is always beauty, always light, always life when the Almighty is at the helm.
Pursuit of Graceful Healing
And so graceful healing is what I’m chasing after. A continuous journey toward restoration with the knowledge that my soul and body will forever be slightly askew until I fall headlong into eternity. I will fight for this because it’s worth it. I will fight because it’s not me taking up arms, but Christ in and through me. His Spirit, His power, His goodness and truth and vision all provide this firm foundation that I can launch each moment from.
Within a couple of short weeks, our family will get to meet its newest addition: our baby girl. As with all of our children, her life is in God’s hands. We may not understand his plans, but we know they are for our good, for our refining, and for His glory. And no matter what, He is faithful and we are held.