Answered prayers

I posted this over at our family blog today. I don't know how many people read both, but it seems like it fits well here too, so I'm just reposting the same thing.

Lately I've been reading back through an old journal of mine. It is from 2005, when I was finishing up law school, studying for the bar, preparing for Caroline's arrival, etc. I wrote just about life and what was going on, but mostly it has written prayers from my morning quiet times. As I read through the entries, starting in probably February of 2005, I was struck by often I prayed for God to give me His Peace and Strength. I must have been reading through Psalms, because often I'd write a verse or two from Psalms at the beginning or end of an entry. So many of the Psalms are cries out to God for peace and protection or thanksgiving for where He brought the writer.

Today, I read a few entries from July of 2005, which was crunch time for me as far as the bar exam goes. I was studying hard day in and day out to be ready to take the test which was the last week of July. On July 20, I wrote a short entry for asking for peace and a calm heart and wrote this verse, "For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock." Psalm 27:5.

Later that day while I was at my doctor's appointment, Jeff fell off the roof of the sorority house where my mom is the house mother. He had been cleaning leaves off of the roof and he backed up into a skylight, lost his balance and fell through to the concrete below. He apparently fell on the back of his head and his shoulder. My mom and my doctor are friends, so she called him to let me know what happened and sent one of her friends over to get me from the doctor's office to bring me to the hospital where the ambulance had brought Jeff. As I heard the news and on the ride over to the hospital, I was strangely not freaked out. As I walked into the ER waiting room and found my mom and another friend who had met her at the house when Jeff got hurt, I was struck by the look of concern on their faces, but I was strangely peaceful. Jeff spent a couple of days in the ICU and then a couple more days at the hospital in a regular room, but after recovering slowly at home, he was fine and thank the Lord, he did not sustain any permanent brain injury.

With all that I was facing late that summer, bar review, studying, the bar exam itself, moving into a new house, being pregnant in July in Louisiana (HOT), and preparing for a new person to enter our lives, PEACE was surely what I would need to get through adding my husband's accident to that mix. I had no way of knowing that in the months leading up to July 20, 2005, but I trust that God did. I've always kind of wondered why I didn't lose it when I saw Jeff in the hospital with bloody hair and a dazed look on his face. I honestly wondered if I was just delirious from so much studying and baby-thoughts that I didn't fully comprehend it, but now, looking back I think God prepared me for that day and gave me the peace I needed to get through those days.

Looking back on that has truly been an encouragement to me, I should take more time to remember God's goodness to me and I hope that each of you can do the same.

Sunday

On Sunday I went out to Joshua's grave for the first time in a while. I'm not sure if I had been consciously avoiding going there or if it has just been the busyness of life that has stopped me. Maybe a little of both. Jeff had some things he needed to do, so when Caroline woke up from her nap, I told her that we were going to go the cemetery for a little while to go to Joshua's grave. She said that she needed to draw a picture for him before we left, so she pulled out a coloring book and went to town with her new markers. She had me write his name on it when she was done. Before we left, she said, "Oh, Mama, us need to bring Joshua his bear." What a memory this girl has! Probably two months ago she saw the teddy bear that the hospital gave to us when we delivered Joshua and we told her that it was "Joshua'a bear" and she hasn't seen it since. I told her that we would keep his bear for him at home, but we can bring him his picture today.

As we drove to the cemetery, she asked if we were going to see Joshua, and this is the point at which I always get a little careful about what to say and how to explain this situation to her. Of course I don't want to explain too much, but at the same time, I don't want her to expect him to physically be there either. I can't remember the words I used, but after I explained that we weren't really going to "see" him, she said, "And the angel is going to be there?" There is no angel on Joshua's grave marker or anywhere near his grave marker as far as I could remember, so I asked her if there was an angel there before. She said that there was an angel there, so I just told her that there might be an angel there again, I figured that she must know better than I!

As we walked up to his grave, she wanted to "give him" the picture she colored, so we figured out a way to stick it in the vase for his flowers. Mom had been there the day before, so he had some pretty wild flowers to go with the picture from Caroline. We cleaned off his grave marker as well as the ones for other babies nearby. I always feel like I need to "do something" while I'm there, like pull up weeds, clean his marker, pick up sticks. I read on another blog from a mom who lost an hours old baby that those things were her way of "parenting" her child, even though the child is gone. I totally identify with that and it gave me words for my feelings. As we left, Caroline said "I want baby Joshua to come home with us." Tears streaming down my face already, I told her "Me too Caroline."

Lately, in the midst of being torn between the throes of joy and anxiety about Baby #3, I have been trying to make more sense of all that has happened to us. Coming to grips with the plain truth that God could have changed all of this and we could be taking care of a baby who (based on his due date) would have been three months old yesterday. Instead we are not. We are visiting a cemetery to leave flowers and pictures and to wipe dust and mud from a grave marker. I know with all that is in me that God is real and true and good. Truth and Goodness have no meaning apart from Him, and yet He allows these things that feel so wrong. I come back to this point over and over: I will likely never be able to grasp why he allowed this. I have no idea why he allows things like this and much worse to happen to those whom he loves. I suppose that is my circular path of trust - I keep coming around to that painful truth, and I have to trust and hope in Him.

"For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, 'Abba, Father.' The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory." Romans 8:15-17

Grace and peace.

More words from the Pipers

In a recent post, I linked to a post on stillbirth by Abraham Piper (whose blog is really great); I've linked to his wife's blog (which is also really great) before, but today I read an article she wrote as a guest poster on Rocks in My Dryer. She has great words for those of us who have lost someone we love and great words for those of us who are friends of those who have lost (sooner or later you find yourself in both categories). You can read it here.

Getting closer

As I approach the 20 week mark in this pregnancy, I am honestly surprised (unpleasantly) at how anxious I have been lately.  Even though I have no tangible or medical reason to think so, I have this feeling that at that 20 week mark, there is this looming, inevitable bad news waiting for me.  This pregnancy has been complication-free and my doctor tries to reassure me that while each pregnancy comes with its own set of risks and possibilities, there is no reason to think that we will lose another baby at 19 or 20 weeks.  Then the logical side of me says, "There weren't any complications last time, at least not that we knew about."  

I read somewhere that every time doubt or fear or anxiety creeps in, to fight that with a prayer of thanksgiving to God for this baby.  I have started doing that and it does help for a moment-in that moment-but moments have a way of sneaking away for a while and then reappearing without warning.  I've been reading some in the Old Testament lately, and this morning I was reading through a few Psalms.  They reminded me of where I need to bring my doubt and anxiety, each moment of it.  Instead of letting those thoughts take hold and run me into the "future" (the future that I make up in those anxious moment), each anxious thought, each doubt and fear needs to go to God first.  David and the other writers of the Psalms were certainly not immune to doubt or fear or trouble, but their wailings and complaints and questions went to God, not solely running circles in their own minds and hearts.  Perhaps there is a way to keep from having anxiety and fear in this life, if you know how, please let me know!  But for now, I have to rest in the fact that I can trust God with my unbelief, my doubt, my anxiety, my fear, each and every time they come up.  To be honest, it is easier said than done, but my prayer is that God will give me the strength to let go.   

Grace and peace.  

Silence

I haven't posted anything here in a few weeks, mostly because every time I sit down to type something, words escape me. I'm not quite sure what to say (and not in a bad way, I'm doing okay), so I figured it was better not to force it and just wait. This morning I still don't have much to say, but I did read something that I thought was worth sharing. Click here to check it out.