“You didn’t cause this. There was just something wrong with the baby. This is God’s way of working it out.”
Her bright red hair and empathetic smile seemed to finally convince my spirit. It’s really over. The conviction in which she uttered that painful closure came from a place of deep faith. She really believed that God was doing me a favor, which in turn, made me finally accept it.
After being restricted to a bed, waiting days before the news could be confirmed, it was finally here. I had held fast to my faith and hope that somehow I would beat the odds.
Then I don’t.
She consoled me with medical terminology to prove there was nothing I had done, or failed to do that would have caused this baby to meet Jesus before me, I swallowed hard. No tears left.
It is God’s way of working it out.
I remind myself of this when the waves of emotions seem to drown me.
The painful news that the baby shoes and pastel christmas ornaments will have to go back into their packaging. A pregnant body already resorting back to its normal condition in what seems like just minutes. So much anticipation, over. Devastating.
Well-intended friends and family tried to console me with, “I’m so sorry. I hear miscarriage is so common in first pregnancies.”
You hear it and it only seems to intensify the gaping wound in the depths of your being. Nothing seems to feel common. You don’t cry over common things. Brushing your teeth at night is common, loading the dishwasher – thats common. Writhing pain and the loss of your child – somehow that doesn’t seem to fit into the same category.
“If you want to cheapen something make it common.” – Jentezen Franklin
Miscarriage is as painful at a soul-level as it is a physical level. But you must endure, life doesn’t stop. In order for a new beginning, you must… well, start over. New inspiration, new dreams are in the resting, the healing.
“For behold, I am doing a new thing – now it springs up, do you not perceive it?” – Isaiah 43:19
I think of all the women in my life who are in the same boat. Many that have walked painfully through their own miscarriages. Some never lost pregnancies, but rather dreams and hopes conceived and buried deep. Dreams of love, marriage, careers, futures. How painful when those dreams experience premature deaths. Thwarted because of unplanned interruptions, conflict or offenses that you couldn’t prepare for, beyond your control.
When there is absolutely nothing you can do to salvage something – it’s unbearable.
But new inspiration, new dreams are in the resting, the healing.
It’s God’s way of working it out…
And it always has been. His plans always require sacrifice of some kind. He himself watched his beautiful dream miscarry in order that we may encounter an eternity with no sadness, no tears, no questions unresolved.
For Ruth, it was her first marriage. For Joseph, it was his relationship with his brothers. For Moses, his homeland. Mary, her reputation. Abraham, his son.
There is something about a miscarried dream that drives you to try again.
Let me remind you, Ruth’s broken heart found restoration in the arms of Boaz, In time, Joseph gained deep relationships with his brothers. Moses’ grand-babies never had to experience the land of bondage and abuse, and instead lived their lives free, in a land flowing with milk and honey. Mary, is forever one of the most respected women all across the world. Abraham’s descendants outnumber the stars.
The Lord gives and the Lord takes away… and then He gives again.
As my 4-month-old coos over the baby monitor, I am reminded of God’s goodness. Even in the death of one dream – I see how it was motivated out of His great love for me. There is something greater on the horizon. There is hope in your devastation. He is still in control, and as tears stream down my face I am reminded…
New inspiration, new dreams are in the resting, the healing. Always.
Hold fast to your uncommon dreams. Your time is coming.