There's the centurion from Luke 2 who came telling Christ that his servant was dying. He told Christ if he would just say the word he believed his servant would be well and there was no need for Christ to come. What did he feel like going home? Did he have every assurance that his servant would be well?
Then there's David who when his first child was dying he fasted with his head to the ground for 7 days. (2 Sam 12:14-23) And then when the child died he got up, washed himself, changed his clothes, worshiped the Lord, ate something and carried on.
I think about the countless times that the people of God mourn in their appearance by dressing themselves in clothing of mourning.
Mary and Martha called for Christ when their brother Lazarus died. They waited and waited and waited. It took Christ 4 days to get to them. Mary cried out to him prostrating herself before him "Why didn't you come!" Clearly she had been in mourning those last 4 days.
The one that I have meditated most on is when Christ is in the Garden of Gethsemane before his crucifixion. In Matthew 26:39 it says And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will."
To tell you the truth I haven't been eager about this pregnancy. I've been waiting for time to get me excited about it. I kept telling myself, I will be excited eventually but for now I will not worry or be excited. I was a little complacent about the whole thing. This past Monday I had my first ultrasound scheduled. I was looking forward to it because I would probably be excited about the baby once I saw it for the first time. I was excited about becoming excited. As my 3 littlest ones watched the screen they were shortly after excused so a more thorough ultrasound could be done so they waited in the hall. I could see the news wasn't good news but the technician spoke in possibilities. She didn't see the baby but suggested it may be too early. This is when thoughts went rushing through my head. Not bad thoughts. More thoughts of hope.
My midwife called the next day to tell me the pregnancy didn't look like it was viable. Still, there was that possibility that it could go the other way for the better. Should I act like the centurion who only needed to ask Gods word and his servant would be healed? Should I be like David who mourned his child while it's life was uncertain? Should I mourn the baby as Mary and Martha mourned Lazarus knowing in their hearts that he was dead? I wouldn't give in to the third at all.
That night Whisper got the flu. I had heard of the flu going around for the second time in a few months and was hoping it wouldn't strike our home. I heard this strain was a very violent one. One that lasted days and was a constant flow of vomit. It takes so long for a mamma to recoup after 5 kids going through the flu. Maybe that's why I myself haven't had it in years. I woke up to the sound of Whisper being sick. I hopped out of bed at first with an attitude of I may be about to have a miscarriage. What an inopportune time for the kids to be getting sick. I need someone to take care of me. How will I take care of my babes. I am going to be up all night and all I want to do is sleep. God had other plans. And I believe he let Whisper become sick to make me stronger. After that split minute moment of selfishness I thought to myself this is such a great time for me to cherish the babes I have in my arms. I brought Whisper to my room, slathered her in oils to help fight the sickness, turned on the defuser with the same oils and slept with her on the couch. She threw up 3 times that night. I was expecting an all-nighter. Actually I slathered all of the kids with oils the next day. None of the other girls got sick. And even if they are yet to get sick, it won't have been all at once like every other time. The Lord is good.
God puts trials in our lives so that we can be stronger. Whisper being sick could have been a why-me-wallow-in-my-own-misery type of trial but he wants us to take joy in our trials as James tells us. It's the joy in our trials that make us stronger.
The next day or two, I can't remember it's been a blur has been that constant flow of thoughts but never giving up hope. Always praising God in the midst of a possible tragedy. Always thinking about Christ asking God to take this cup from him. Jesus still went to the cross because he loves us so much. If he hadn't loved us he would't have died for us. But I don't picture buddy Jesus taking up his cross at Calvary. I picture a man almost beaten to death but still hanging on so he can be the final sacrifice, tired, and in pain but I'm sure he was with his Father the whole time. I have been with the Father every moment of my waking days since Monday and it is such a wonderful feeling. I have asked him to take this cup from me but if it is his will that the baby should die let His will be done and not my own. I have not been happy every moment, and I have sinned as I do every day but I have still been with God every moment.
Today my body started to reject the baby we were praying for. Now sitting here writing this I feel pain as my body tries to flush what was once a living little person from my body. I am at peace about loosing our child. It is a painful thing to think about and have a lifeless person inside of you but the fact the s/he is gone means s/he is alive in heaven. Celebrating eternal life with his Saviour. It is sad for us here on Earth but what a wonderful thing for our child to experience. And s/he got there before I did. Lucky kid.
Now that baby is gone, I am excited about the pregnancy.
I mourn that.
That I did not glorify God while s/he was with us. But I will glorify God now that s/he is not.
Amen
Beautifully written Amy and so glad I was able to spend time with you today. Lve you. Mom xoxoxoxo
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