Acquainted With Grief

“He was despised and forsaken of men, A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; And like one from whom men hide their face He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.” Is. 53:3 (NASB)

Grief is a strange emotion.  There is no timeline.  It ebbs and flows with its own course to be experienced through a lifetime.  Twenty-six years ago today I lost a daughter, Erin.  She was stillborn at the end of an entire nine months.  Nine months twenty-six years ago; it seems like a lifetime.  While Jesus has granted me a great deal of healing through His grace (See ‘Amazing Grace’ Sept. 2009), I find that some years are more difficult than others.

Do people ever look beyond my smiling lips to see my eyes subduing the sudden pain in my heart?  Do they recognize the loss so intimate, the stillborn child, unknown to all but me?  Nine months spent fruitlessly waiting to fill empty arms that would never be filled with that particular life.  Her life unlived amid dreams never to be fulfilled, laughter never to be shared, and the birthdays never to be celebrated, but mourned over year after year: that is my truth.  A life unidentified to anyone else, but never forgotten by me, her movements felt by no one else save me.  Although twenty-six years have passed, the heartache can still be so sharp, the memories so fresh, it’s as though the delivery day took place just yesterday.   These are my memories:

Unforgettable, the silence of that delivery room; tears of anguish flowing unchecked accompanied by the low moaning of the young mother.  The only other sounds: a quietly weeping nurse as she wiped clean the still, un-breathing baby of what should have been life-giving blood and the clanking of instruments.  A young father stood silently, overwhelmed and withdrawn from the unthinkable horror of the moment.  Precious, fine baby hair was snipped and footprints taken from the unmoving infant for later recollection of parents destroyed by grief.

The memorial service was centered on the tiny coffin with words spoken that are no longer remembered.  Her mother unable to contain the grief, wailing her tears, yet ashamed of the emotions she couldn’t control.  A father so shut down, he was unable to mourn, trying, but unable, to comfort his wife.  He would later run from his grief into his job and be swallowed by it. 

Months afterward, at home, two toddlers confused by not understanding a mother who alternated between sobbing bitterly and fiercely hugging them.  For a time, hope seemed impossible and what does normal life look like after burying a baby?  Oddly enough, the sun still rises in the morning and the demands of children continue in spite of the agony of loss.  Life does go on.

As I read what I have written, I realize that the recollections are written it in third person, probably to maintain the distance that it took years to achieve.  Now when I look back, I don’t know how I got through that time in my life.  I was twenty-three years old.  My life was forever altered by that event.  How can one prepare for such a cataclysm?  However, that event started me on a search for purpose.  I had to find a love that would not die, a reality that could move me beyond the brokenness to find healing and hope. 

Jesus Christ was, and is, the only unchanging, perfect love that I could find.  He, too, was a man of sorrows acquainted with grief and He understood my pain.  That the Father in heaven comforted me in my pain, I have no doubt.  The Holy Spirit’s power activated in my life is the only explanation for the ability to come to terms with such a harrowing loss.  That love started a healing process that I will never understand.

For whatever reason, this year the memory of the delivery day and what followed was sharper than it has been for a very long time, hence this blog.  I will always miss Erin and I will always wonder who she would have become.  But I have undeniable, assured hope that I will see her again.  My arms will be filled with that particular life that I carried for nine months.  And my heart will finally be whole once more.

Hiding

“But I will strip Esau bare; I will uncover his hiding places, so that he cannot conceal himself.” Jeremiah 49:10

You know, I have experienced God’s speaking into my life in such amazing ways.  Yet each time I am surprised…and awed…that the God of the universe who put the planets into place and knows each star by name will still pursue me and love me enough to make me holy.  But the means by which He reaches me can surely make me very uncomfortable and I am still prideful enough to resist.  But here is His latest conviction to my heart.

I am hiding.

I am staying safe within my little world, which over the last few years has dwindled from a huge “family” of about three hundred people to about fifteen.  Circumstances aside, I have become cowardly when it comes to relationships.  And there are many people whose forgiveness I am still seeking for my withdrawal.

The really difficult part is having the healthy boundaries to know who is safe to come further into my world and who has shown themselves unsafe and therefore needs to remain at a safe distance.  Herein lies the rub; and I’m still trying to figure this all out.

But the most amazing part is that I am preparing to speak at a woman’s retreat about this very topic!  My topic is “Risking Outward”, meaning how do I love others when I am afraid? However, God in His faithfulness is answering me clearly and concisely.  Therefore, I have a lot of “ ‘splainin’ ” to do.  And many people of whom I will be asking forgiveness.  How God must “shake His head” to confront me in my sin in such a manner…and haul me out of my hiding place. 

If you believe you are one of those people, I would surely love your assistance!  Call me, or send me a Face Book message, or an e-mail.  But don’t let me go any longer retreating into my little world.  I need relationship with you as much as you do me!

Letting Go

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice.” Eph. 4:31

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I last posted, but during these last couple of weeks God has been teaching me lessons on when to hold on and when to let go.  I’ll start with the letting go first. 

I finally had to let go of my dog of fourteen years.  Sheila, an Australian Shepherd, was a great dog: companionable, loving, comforting, all that a person could want a dog to be.  Blind, partially deaf, her hips finally gave out on her.  Making the decision to have her “put down” was heartbreakingly painful and it was a decision I didn’t want to make.  We had been through these spells before where she just couldn’t get up, but this time, she didn’t regain her strength and I knew it was time to let her go. 

Letting go can be a difficult decision.  Especially when we have loved and nursed something we have to let go.  I nursed and loved Sheila and letting her go was painful.  But she wasn’t healthy anymore and holding on to her was selfish.

However, I’ve also been known to nurse and love other things that are not healthy:

Things like hurt, bitterness and anger.

And that is selfish as well.

In the letter to the Ephesians, Paul is emphatic that those are emotions we need to let go: bitterness, rage, anger, brawling, slander and malice.  When I nurse those emotions, I find that the hurt, bitterness, and anger start to grow out of control and start to drain me of precious energy, energy that is required to do the things the Lord has called me to do in serving His people.  Letting go of these emotions can be painful initially.  But the rewards far outweigh the pain.  Maybe today you can decide to let go of some unhealthy things in your life.  Take them to the Lord and ask for His help in letting go.

Food for Thought

"Show me, LORD, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting my life is.” Ps. 39:4

Survival rate, treatment options, side effects from chemo; somewhere in somebody’s life today these terms are becoming integrated into their daily vocabulary. Alarming, unfamiliar phrases that signify the possible number of days left in an individual’s life because of three little words. It is amazing how simple words can pare away any extraneous impediments and reduce a life to essential priorities: “you have cancer”.

Maybe the words you heard were different; words like “there has been a car accident” or “there is no longer any brain activity” or “there was an IED”.

And accompanying those words are some deep, thought provoking questions. If the words were directed at you and you now had a definite explanation for your cause of death, how would you react? Would you be filled with regrets? Would you be satisfied with how you lived your life? What would you do differently? What if the words were directed to a loved one, how would you react then?

The truth is none of us know what the number of our days. A chosen few are given an indication of how many days are left to them, but for the most part death can be sudden and we have no idea when it will occur. We do have the knowledge that we are finite creatures, but do we live every day with that knowledge in the forefront of our minds?

No, I myself have not heard these words directed at me, but I’m aware of a situation where this very circumstance has become a hard reality and it made me stop and think. Am I satisfied with how I’m living my life? Are you?

Life is short, no matter how we look at it. I don’t want to stand before my Jesus and have to account for opportunities I missed to tell someone I loved them. I don’t want to admit that I was contemptuous of someone’s love for me. And I can’t imagine my heartbreak when I find out just how many opportunities I missed to share the love of God with my “neighbor”.

Definitely, food for thought….and prayer.

A Whack-a-Mole Wrinkle

“Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Cor. 12:8-10

I have a dear friend who says that sometimes life is like the game of whack-a-mole; as soon as you nail one problem, another problem springs up that requires attention. Just as I start to get an exercise regime in place, the food intake decreasing, and as I work at not retreating to food for comfort (refer to previous blog), I find myself irritable, emotional, overly sensitive, and downright no fun to be with…and I cannot escape my own company! I don’t like fighting feelings of negativity and rejection that are probably just figments of my imagination. But what do I do with these feelings? Numbing out with food allowed me to not feel and escaping negative feelings is pretty addictive. And I was a lot more fun to hang out with. Now, I find myself writhing internally with hurt, pain, anger and a host of other emotions that have long lay dormant and are spilling through me like the water behind a dam-burst! How do I deal?

Writing this blog is somewhat therapeutic but I’m not sure why anyone would want to read about the processing of my emotions. Or perhaps reading about the emotions of another frees one up to consider one’s own emotions. Meanwhile, I just want to sit with a bag of chips and watch the feelings disappear. However, processing the emotions is my prerequisite. So writing, working out, prayer, and talking with friends helps the processing of the emotions, but frankly, I feel foolish and vulnerable sharing feelings and weaknesses as I consider posting this blog.

To my chagrin, when I take self (read pride) out of the picture, maybe it is a glimpse into the process of working through my emotions that Jesus can use to encourage and enlighten others. Perhaps this blog is not about the success or failure of losing weight, but about sharing the process of what I am learning as I sit quietly before the Lord and listen for the still, small voice of my Deliverer. After all, my desire is that my life be about Jesus Christ and His will being lived out through me, even in my weakness. Maybe Jesus can use this for you, dear reader, so that you feel less isolated in your struggles to gain empowerment over issues of your own. I would love any feedback you have for me. Until then, get your mallets ready to whack-a-mole!

A Different Easter Celebration

For the first time in more years than I can remember, I was not in church on Easter Sunday. My husband and I had gone camping with our daughter and son-in-law for some much needed respite after a season of extreme stress and sadness. But early on Monday morning I was feeling so guilty! How could I have missed the one service in the year where the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ is celebrated? I tried to comfort myself by the fact that all day long yesterday I hummed, “Jesus Christ is Risen Today” but somehow, it didn’t seem like enough. How could I have missed declaring, “He is risen!” followed by, “He is risen indeed!” almost as though the phrase was a secret password for an exclusive club?

Even last night, I was awake fretting over the fact that I missed church yesterday. What would people think? Would they think I didn’t love Jesus? Would my status as a “good” Christian be called into question? Does my not attending a church service on Easter make me a backslidden Christian? Do I need to repent and confess that my heart and soul has been in a period of mourning and I just couldn’t bring myself to put on my Christian “suit” and behave like all born-again Christians are supposed to behave on Easter Sunday? Does Jesus think that I don’t love Him enough to attend church?

Finally this morning, after some quiet time with Jesus in the Word, then praying and listening, I turned to a loving, precious sister in Christ, and shared some of my fears and heart-aches. As I poured out my heart, the tears were flowing down my face as I wept over the grief and loss I have experienced over the last year. And after the phone call ended, I continued to weep with my Lord, sensing His comforting presence as though He had gathered me into His arms, as a mother would her injured child. I was comforted and soon my soul was feeling refreshed. The ringing of my phone gently interrupted my comfortable silence. The voice on the other end was a different beloved sister who was experiencing her own grief and was seeking counsel. As we spoke, God provided a unique opportunity to share the reality of my Easter morning with her. The following is how I spent my Easter morning.

I had the privilege of observing two sets of new-born twin lambs, barely an hour old. New life! They were still struggling to get to their feet, breathing air for the first time, and softly bleating as they explored their small stall. As I described the scene to my friend, my heart turned to Jesus, our Lamb, the paschal Lamb! Isaiah 53:7 tells us, “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.” As I described watching those new-born lambs, I was reminded of the unfathomable gift, a gift that I did not and do not deserve, but was given in spite of my sinful self: Jesus Christ and the indwelling Holy Spirit. Watching them yesterday, in that moment, I was once again overwhelmed with the grace of God the Father who was willing to allow His only-begotten Son to die on a cross, to show us His power and love by raising Jesus from the dead to new life to provide a means of communing with our holy Creator. And to think that we have been invited to receive this gift of new life through Jesus Christ! That is Easter – the celebration of the resurrection!

As I ended the conmversation with my friend, it became obvious to me that my heart needed to be reminded that Easter is not about attending a church service, or the sin of worrying about what people may be thinking about me. Easter is about truly worshipping Jesus Christ! As I told my friend, perhaps that was a far more authentic celebration of Easter: to be in a barn watching those little lambs so fresh and new to the world. May I be able to recognize that every day can be a celebration of His death and resurrection and the new life that I have because of that precious Lamb of God!

Amazing Grace

Over twenty-four years ago on an inauspicious day in September, I began a journey with God and His amazing grace. Fall was upon us and I was anxious to harvest a particular crop, especially after waiting nine long months. Since three was the limit, this would be my final harvest. However, one is never prepared for the alteration of life to death, and at twenty-three years of age, I was completely unprepared for the unanticipated change in circumstances. It would become the pivotal event that would forever alter the landscape of my life.

I remember it was a radiantly sunny day. I had just put my two children down for their naps and was anxious to relax and put my feet up. With only three days left until my due date, I was tiring easily. Suddenly I realized that there had been no movement from my precious burden so I went into my bedroom as quickly as my awkward body would allow and grabbed my stethoscope from the drawer. Hesitantly, fearing what I would not hear, I listened for the sound of the tiny but mighty heartbeat of my unborn child. But there was no sound, just a yawning, empty silence. Gulping with fear and doubting my own ability, I paused and listened again while slowly and carefully moving the stethoscope to every quadrant of my extended belly; again, nothing. As I tried to take this in, to make sense of the silence, without any warning, tears were pouring down my face and I could not catch my breath. Some two hours later, I would see for myself the utter stillness in the ultrasound and the tears in the eyes of the nurse while I could not stop my sobs. Four days later, I was induced and the little girl, who I named Erin Patricia, was delivered. I will never forget the silence in that delivery room; a silence would haunt my days and nights for years to come.

The impact of her unexpected death forced me to consider my own death and what would come after. At a tender age, I was taught a harsh lesson on the brevity of life; that there is no time to hang on to bitterness or to leave things unsaid or undone. The loss of this child taught me lessons that probably would have taken a lifetime to learn; I learned tough lessons through her abbreviated lifetime. A few years later our gracious Lord would call me out of a deep darkness into His marvelous light. For me, this was and is evidence of God’s ability to redeem the unredeemable, to restore what was lost and to show me a love that has never failed. As I reminisce on that time in my life, on this daughter whose smile I never knew, whose laughter I never heard, I have discovered that I am able to celebrate her brief life.

Looking back I can see my experience of God’s grace began before I had even acknowledged His presence in my life. That God could take circumstances so tragic and use it for my good only reinforces the truth of scripture: that God “causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose” (Rom. 8:28, NASB). At the time of my loss, I had not even thought about loving God, but He was loving me. It would take many years before that silent delivery room would no longer haunt me. While I can still feel sad, I am free of that memory causing me the same pain today. Furthermore, by God’s grace I have been able to minister to those who have experienced similar losses and frequently tell people, you never get over the loss, but you learn how to live with it, and even flourish. I know this because I am living proof of His amazing grace.