Time does not heal all wounds. At least that is what I am finding out for myself. We just celebrated the date that our first child would have joined our family had the heartache of loss never entered our world. Celebrate, that may be too much of a stretch. Instead we grieved, and ached, and mourned what is not. We cried, we held each other, we tried to press on and not dwell in the darkness of anguish and pain. Sometimes laying there in the misery of it all sounds more appealing then picking up and carrying, all the whilest remembering and not forgetting what has been our life.
In the midst of this chaos and brokenness, I feel lost. I do not know how I climb out of bed every day and face what the day brings. I do not know why death has entered our lives and robbed us of three very much wanted children. I do not get how the thing we want so badly has been just close enough to be true and then vanishes before we can tangibly count is as ours to be had.
It is so hard to look forward and imagine that this time will be used as good. This time feels broken, and messy, and vulnerable, and scary. It feels impossible that this season can be overcome. It feels impossible that what the future holds can ever out weigh the hardships and heartaches of this season. How can my heart go on? How can I recover from a past 8 months that have been filled with hurt, pain, loss, sadness, yet mingled with joy and hope and gratitude?
Yes, although there has been loss ... there has been so much more hope. Three time this year we have been blessed with two little pink lines. Three times this year I have experienced life within me. Three times this year I have had the honor and the privilege to share with family and friends that a baby was on the way! I have so much hope and joy reminiscing those moments. I have faith that our story is not over. I have to believe that the hope I have is not for naught.
God is good. He is writing our story. Death has never been part of His plan, but death entered this world. I have a choice to make every day. Do I allow the crushing weight of death to overcome me, or do I allow Him who overcame death to fulfill me and continue to minister to me and give me hope? From this experience, I can reassure you that choosing hope has been the best choice I have ever made.
The future still remains unknown. I still struggle to envision a time where this mess will be turned into a message. But I have faith that God is using our story of brokenness and that redemption is His.
These losses have helped press us even further into the journey of foster care. We are closer now than we have been before to being licensed foster parents. And perhaps that is how God is using our story. I do not know. But God does. Send us, Lord. Let us be instruments on this journey of life and let us be Your hands and feet to the least of them.
