Grief is a strange thing. I've lost loved ones in the past but always when that person had lived long lives and reached old age. When the end of their days became obvious it was with sadness that my family watched them slowly slip away from us. Day by day, little by little, we knew that person was leaving this world. Some took solace in believing they knew the condition of our loved ones salvation, some simply took comfort in the fact that that person had lived x amount of years, that they'd seen their children grown, held their grandchildren and great grandchildren, and some found comfort in nothing.
But no matter how each person handled their grief they did grieve. They hurt. They healed. Time has a way of getting us through even the deepest hurts. For some that's all there ever is...the passing of time so the grief is less sharp, the pain dulled, the loss less recent. For others we find strength in the Lord and it's on His strength that we get through what we couldn't face alone.
The recent loss of my unborn baby has left a hole in my heart where dreams and a tiny life lived just days ago. There was a time when I didn't think my faith would survive the loss of one of my children, when I thought I would forever blame the Lord for taking my child if I ever had to go through that. My faith has changed since then. It's grown, deepened, matured. And in that faith I discovered a strength that got me through the loss of my unborn baby. Instead of blaming the Lord I turned to Him when I hurt, instead of blaming Him I found comfort in taking my hurt to Him. I did question Him a time or two. I know that it isn't my place to question my Creator, that He has reasons and plans I can know nothing of, but...I'm still human, still flesh. I still hurt and grieve and in that pain, during those sharpest moments I cried out...why?
The pain of loss is like the crashing of the oceans waves, coming and going, ebbing and flowing.Waves are mighty and strong. They can lift a person and toss them or gently rock them back and forth. They hold a power we never will. Grief can crash into us in a second, with no warning, it can knock our feet out from under us and toss us to and fro. It can also rock us gently, hurting just enough to remind us that we loved...and lost.
Two days ago the waves were crashing over me, burying me in pain, knocking my feet from beneath me and tossing me around. I couldn't get my footing, couldn't stop hurting. I reached out to my Lord and he got me through the pain.
Today...the seas are calm. The pain hasn't come crashing over me. It hasn't flowed around me. Today the waves gently rock...there but with nothing but a sweet reminder of the love I had because I loved. Today I have found my footing. I've remembered that once I thought I'd lose my belief in the Lord if ever I lost a child and I've found great comfort in knowing that losing my unborn baby has only brought me closer to Him.
I know the waves aren't through crashing yet, the pain isn't over, but that's okay. I can think of my baby with happiness and sweetness. I can remember the joy I felt while it lived in my. And now I find a kind of bittersweet joy in carrying it in my heart.
There are poems online for losing a baby, poems about miscarriage. Some talk about tiny feet tiptoeing into our hearts. I find comfort in those little footprints left on my heart. And I find comfort in the memory of that tiny life, gone before it was, that has forever changed me.
And I find comfort in the knowledge that in my deepest hurt I turned to my Lord, not away from Him.
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