A Tiny Blessing

I hesitate.

I hesitate to put fingers to keys, feelings to words, to give heartache a voice. Should pain be kept private? I remember reading once that a loaf of bread will feed only one, but broken, it will feed many. I do believe that allowing our brokenness to be shared can bring healing to other broken hearts, knits us together who have gone through similar trials, gives us courage to continue on the hard road.

I had a tiny blessing. We were expecting our fifth child! I was cautiously excited as this was our first pregnancy since our precious Olivia died. Time passed. Days. Weeks. We told our families. We told our children.

And then lightening struck. Miscarriage.

I had felt immune, I think, as if I had already endured enough horror and trauma with Olivia's diagnosis and death. Like I had used up all my allotted Bad Stuff and had only Good to look forward to. But the Lord gives and the Lord takes away.

Sometimes much quicker than we prefer.

I am awestruck at the faith of my daughter and my future sister-in-law. Praying for miracles! Maybe all hope had not been lost! Not just faith to move a mountain, faith to move an entire mountain range. I am blessed by their belief and pray for Him to increase my faith, as it seems so little in comparison. I realized that when I heard the doctor's words on Sunday, verifying that there is no longer life within, that even I too had been holding onto hope. Maybe my faith is a little bigger than I thought.

There is comfort in knowing that Olivia has been joined by a sibling. Big sister and little living together amidst His glory. A strange sort of comfort which leaves in its wake...an ache. That I am mother of five, but parent to three. That I have children (plural)....children whom I will not know on earth. That I have a large family, although it might not appear so to the naked eye. 

And I grope to find Him. I try to convince myself of His continual goodness, even if my earthly eyes struggle to see it. I desperately search for His kind hand at every turn. I can not even begin to understand the "why" and the "what for". Maybe you are there too, friend. Crawling through the valley. Trying to make sense of the seemingly senseless. Hesitating to give feelings their voice.

Know that I am there with you. Hurting. Healing. Hoping?

Praying that we can find Him together,