Thankful Through the Storms
If you've followed my blog much this year, you know it's been a very hard year for me.
In January, after a couple years of trying to get pregnant again, I miscarried. I have been blessed that I've never experienced much tragedy in my life. All of my grandparents lived into my adulthood, and one set is still here to bless my children. It also was pretty much unheard of for anyone in my family to miscarry. Never even entered the realm of the possible.
It has been a year of walking through shadows and valleys I never imagined. A year of wrestling with God. A year of demanding to know the unanswerable why. A year of fighting to trust Him even when I couldn't see Him.
A year of reaching out as I grieved and learned. A year of yelling to be understood. A year of fighting through pain as I watched friend after friend have their precious babies.
A year of begging God to put the pieces of my fractured heart back together. A year of kisses from heaven as friends and acquaintances prayed for me and let me know I wasn't alone.
A year of learning just how many women live with the pain and grief of a miscarriage. A year of being determined not to let this experience be in vain. A year of begging God to redeem the pain. To turn it into good as only He can.
It's been a year of fighting through until I am seated at His feet. Sometimes with tears pouring down my cheeks. Sometimes with no words at all. Sometimes with my arms thrust wide, head thrown toward heaven . Sometimes bowed to the ground.
A year of anticipating grief. Each month of what should have been my pregnancy. The week I probably would have given birth. The due date. The events I should have taken a baby, too.
A year of being surprised by grief. Holding a friend's baby that was born around my due date. Being so happy for them, and so incredibly sad for me. Of gritting my teeth and groaning that it wasn't about me. Of holding that baby as a three month old and being socked in the gut all over again by fresh, unadulterated grief.
You see, I can know I have treasure in heaven. But right now, I still long for that treasure to be in my arms.
But through it all, I can see God's hand. And I am thankful. Thankful for the nurses who cried along with me during pre-op and recovery. Thankful for neighbors who held me as I cried. Thankful for a pastor's wife who has walked this road and could point me to the other side -- even before I was ready to hear that there was another side.
Thankful for the real way I have had to walk my faith. Thankful that God is good. All the time. Thankful that God will never leave me or forsake me. Thankful that God collects every tear that I cry. Thankful that Jesus stands at the right hand of the Father and intercedes for me. Thankful that the Holy Spirit knows exactly how to pray when my words are too bound up inside.
Thankful that I can now relate on a gut-level way with an entire group of women. Thankful that God uses everything for His good. Thankful that what the enemy intended for evil will instead be turned into good.
And I am thankful that someday I will see this little Gabriel/Gabriella -- even as I long to hold him/her in my arms now.