We lost our baby.
Photo by Anna Merrell Photography and Design |
I began writing on Day 3. Harsh, raw, honest words. On Day 5
I sat safely against Michael’s chest, holed up in our guest room, for church.
We streamed The Crossing.
The sermon was on Psalm 13:1-6.
How long, O Lord? Will you forget
me forever?
How long will you hide your face
from me?
2 How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all
the day?
How
long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
Words have never fit so perfectly.
He spoke of how ¾ of the Psalms is lament, prayers of
complaint and sorrow and questioning God. Only ¼ of the Psalms is praise and
glory to God.
He points out that despite the theologically incorrect
statements found in the Psalms of lament, God never corrects them.
He spoke about three different kinds of faith: cross faith,
tomb faith, and resurrected faith. Tomb faith is cold and dead. There is no
faith for a season; Jesus experienced it. Resurrected faith is victory. Most
people live their whole life thinking they have to have a resurrected faith, a
faith that is constantly rejoicing, in order to be faithful. Because of this
belief, people hide their doubt, their pain, their questions, their anger at
God because they view these things as weakness in their faith. However,
sometimes faith looks like a lack of faith.
Jesus was crushed. Darkness filled the skies and Jesus cried
out to God asking why He had forsaken Him. That is cross faith. It wrestles
with God. It is necessary. It makes you more like Jesus.
Lament was not the ending in Psalms, it was a pathway to
praise.
I realized I was writing my own Psalms.
Too often, we hide our darkness… Afraid to spread it, afraid
to admit it; as if it defines us or demonstrates weakness. I have found that
with the loss of the unborn, people do not talk about it. Therefore, many of us
do not know how to love someone through it. God calls us to process our
emotions, in order to bring them to Him, in all their ugliness and honesty. This
life is filled with darkness and we were not made to go through it alone.
I want to invite you into my darkest days.
It is not pretty. It is not an easy read. It may be too much
information.
There will be curse words. There will likely be things that
you think should never be said to God. There will likely be things that you find offensive.
It is real and genuine. It is unedited.
These days have been the worst days of my life, but one day,
when the praise comes, I know it will be deeper, and more joyful than I have
ever known.
Walk with me in the darkness, that we might not walk alone.
I am sorry for your loss. Your blog was linked on Facebook. I blogged through one miscarriage and didn't blog through three others, and the one I wrote about was cathartic and meaningful. The audience doesn't matter as much as the process of exploring the grief and wading through it. I am so sorry for the death of your child.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reaching out to me and sharing your loss with me. I am sorry for the loss of your babies. I have wrestled with and come to many truths through my writing in the past two months. I pray God will use it for others.
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