Several months ago, I wrote of a trial that Husband and I were going through. At that point in our lives, it was something that prayer was healing, but we weren't ready to talk about.
The last several weeks I've been struggling with this trial and what is meant for my. And I've learned that talking about it and remembering that God is with me through it all has made it so much easier.
Husband and I lost a baby in February by D & C 2 days before my 30th birthday. At the time, only 2 people knew that we were pregnant; our families did not. What was supposed to be a joyous time for us to unveil this news, turned into a heartbreaking time of loss and sorrow. We were nearing 12 weeks when we found out that our baby had gone home to be with Jesus.
Our faith was strong then and continues to be strong and we rest in that faith knowing that God needed our baby in Heaven before we did here on earth. We find comfort in knowing that God is rocking our sweet little one and surrounding our little one with so much love and we know that someday we too will be reunited with our sweet baby in Heaven.
We've had wonderful blessings in our lives since then and we know that God continues to guide and provide. But, there is still pain. Still sorrow. Still tears. Still questions.
Our Sunday School class has been studying the story of Mary, Martha and Lazarus in the book of John and how Mary and Martha both questioned Jesus when Lazarus died. But, even though their questions were voiced and God patiently listened, they still professed to Jesus that they knew His ultimate will would be carried out. And I'm trying to be like Mary and Martha; able to voice my hurts and fears and worries, but also able to profess the almighty that Jesus is.
I've screamed and I've cried out all those questions that have not been answered. And God has been patient and listened. And in the end, He has comforted. I know that He is in control. I know that He has all the answers, many of which I will never know. I know that He loves me. And I know that His will is being done.
And so I wait. Wait for His guidance. Wait for His direction. Wait for His continued comfort.
And I try to remember that I have hope. But it still sometimes hurts.