I feel like my heart is venturing out. Just like when I go swimming at the lake: I get my toes wet first, then my knees, then legs, then dive in, so it is with my heart. I'm willing to take on other challenges in life. For some time, I was so wounded and hurting from Amelia's death, it didn't feel like I could handle other burdens. But I am now. Not because I've chosen them, but because I think God has seen fit to bring them my way in His time. He knows me better than anyone else. The road to healing is beautiful when God does the mending.
Amelia's existence seems surreal at times. I often think to myself, "I can't believe I have a daughter in heaven." One day I am hugely pregnant and 4 1/2 months later, I still miss my daughter and feel closest when at her grave or looking at her pictures. I'm also teaching piano, raising Brilla, involving myself deeper in ministry, and other stuff. Going on with life. Isn't that amazing? It can only be done in God's strength. But there are still times I think what Amelia would look like, how Brilla would be playing with her little sister. And believe it or not, I still get phantom kicks in my tummy.
I have cried the most tears I've ever cried in my whole life these past 4 1/2 months.
One thing I'm glad about is the increased compassion I have for those who are going through a hard time, especially where it concerns their little child. You can often find me praying hard for some family I haven't even met. I have the utmost faith and desire that God heal the little ones. But I also don't want parents to experience the great pain of loss. Death is so final and so real.
Christ's death changed the finality of death, though. Those who belong to Him don't really die. He died once so that all of us who believe in Him would not have to, and we can live forever in Heaven, though our shells fall away.
Right now I'm experiencing joy again. I'm back to experimenting with fun meals. I'm watching my weight. I'm thinking that I'd love to take photography classes. I'm enjoying date nights with my husband. Going out with girl friends. I don't fear anymore that my husband and toddler could be taken away at a moment's notice. I'm not limp as a log anymore, face and clothing soggy with tears. I'm not binging on sweets, the earthly cure for an aching heart.
Instead, I'm slowly saying, "Okay, God, I'm willing to do what you want. But please catch me if I can't take it!"
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Hi Joy.
I got to your blog via (I think) Herb of Grace (does that sound about right?).
Just to let you know, you have someone across the Pond praying for you too,
Edith
Hi there, Joy :-)
You don't know me, but I happened upon your blog and couldn't leave without saying something! I clicked on your profile from a comment you left on Rachel's A's blog. I'm Eric's cousin.
I really admire your openness in sharing your sorrow here. I read through a couple of your entries and was incredibly touched and blessed by your words. Your faith in God and the strength you have in Him come shining through so clearly. It's beautiful and reminds me of where my priorities need to be.
I think that the true joy we glean from this side of Heaven is not always in the expected things, but rather from the closeness we experience with our Saviour when we are devastated, broken, and have nowhere else to turn. When something has been taken from us, Jesus fills that empty space with the very light and breath of Himself. I know that this doesn't replace what we've lost or make the hurt go away, but I think it binds itself to our pain and wraps it up into a package that makes a little more sense and is a little more bearable.
Joel 2:23-26 has really spoken to me when I've gone through trials: "Be glad, O people of Zion, rejoice in the Lord your God, for he has given you the autumn rains in righteousness. He sends you abundant showers, both autumn and spring rains, as before. The threshing floors will be filled with grain; the vats will overflow with new wine and oil. I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten-- the great locust and the young locust, the other locusts and the locust swarm-- my great army that I sent among you. You will have plenty to eat until you are full, and you will praise the name of the Lord your God, who has worked wonders for you; never against will my people be shamed."
I'm no doubt taking this out of context horribly, but sometimes I feel like my life has been taken over by locusts, like an army is beating me down... And this passage reminds me that the Lord knows everything that goes in my life, that He's always there, and that, ultimately, one day, I will be restored. What I like about this passage too is that God isn't saying that He will give them just enough, but that he will give them enough to make them full. I think God longs to do the same in our lives... He doesn't want us to just be getting through the day, to barely have enough strength to make it through... He wants us to be clinging to Him so completely that His essence can just overflow into our hearts and then spill out others.
So, keep on seeking Him in all of this and He will get you through it. Know that I'm going to be praying for you too.
*Heather*
P.S. My profile on here is disabled, but if you ever want to talk or anything, I'm on Facebook as Heather Greenlee.
Post a Comment