Moment by Moment

Today I was walking through the parking lot with Benjamin and that child was not wanting to hold my hand! The tighter I squeezed, the more he fought me. Confidently, I told my son that I was not letting go. At that point, he did what any 2 1/2 year old would do...He fell to his knees....in the middle of the parking lot. I instantly picked him up and carried him to the car.

When I lost Henry, there were days I didn't want to hold onto God. And if I'm really being honest, there are days I don't feel like he's holding me. So often I ache and hurt and wonder why He took my son. Today, I've run into 2 pregnant women due around the same time as Henry. Longing to have that boy in my womb, I cried silently as I stared at their bellies and looked down at mine. In moments like this, I act very much like my son. I feel myself trying to let go of God's hand. I fight and struggle and try to break free, but God confidently holds tight. He won't relax His grip no matter how hard I fight Him. And in those dark, dark moments, those days where I want to (and sometimes do) throw in the towel, He confidently picks me up and carries me through that moment. And that's exactly how I'm getting through the loss of my sweet Henry. Moment by moment. Some I'm able to walk through. Others I have to be carried.

 

Earthly Blessings

I did something bad the other day. I didn't break the law or anything that extreme, but I did do something I knew was wrong. Blatantly, knowing it was wrong while doing it. My first thought after feeling conviction was: Did I lose Henry because God knows how blatantly I sin when I want my way? Followed by my second thought: Will He not allow me to get pregnant again because of how awful I am? Praise God it doesn't work that way.

I read in Shattered Dreams that, "Our badness is no longer the obstacle to blessing. Not is our goodness the condition for blessing." I'm no Biblical scholar so I can't really come up with a verse at the moment that supports this, but this is seen throughout Scripture. Jesus being the ultimate example. He was perfect and look what God allowed Him to endure. On the flip side, I know plenty of evil people who live blessed earthy lives. I say earthly because most blessings I pray for are just that. Unfortunately. "And if our hope in Christ is only for this life, we are more to be pitied than anyone in the world." (1 Corinthians 15:19)

I'm not gonna lie. I hope beyond hope that God blesses me with more children. I hope Benjamin grows to be a godly man. I hope my marriage continues to grow stronger every day. I hope to hold my grandchildren. There are so many good things I hope for, but no blessing on this earth compares to the hope we have in Him. And I'm not some Mother Teresa that lives this out consistently. Sometimes I don't feel that way at all. Sometimes I feel so hopeless because no matter what earthly blessings I receive, I won't have Henry. But I do have the hope of a future in eternity with my son, and that should have me singing!

"God is not waiting to bless us after our troubles end. He is blessing us right now, in and through those troubles. At this exact moment, He is giving us what He thinks is good." (Shattered Dreams). My first thought to this is, But having my 33 week old baby kicking my womb is good! Yes it is, but as hard as this is to stomach, much less say out loud: He has something better in mind. Better than the blessing of holding my darling child. Some days I don't care what good He has, I want my way. Some days I want Henry here more than I care about His glory. And as worldly and selfish as these thoughts are, I think they're okay to feel. But the Holy Spirit continues to remind me that glory means more than any earthly blessing that comes my way...even Henry. No sin, no good behavior, nothing can change that. PRAISE GOD!

If we are faithless, He remains faithful. 2 Timothy 2:13

Choices

Sometimes I tell Henry I love him out loud and my sweet son repeats my words. I cry, of course, but know that he really would have loved his little brother. They would have been best friends. Partners in crime. I realize how badly I want to give him a little brother or sister to love. Someone to walk though life with. But the guilt sets in. It would feel so wrong housing a child in a womb that should hold Henry. And when that child is born, they will be on this earth because Henry isn't. That feels so wrong to me. Will I be glad Henry didn't make it because I love this one so much? Or will I look at this child and only want my Henry? All these thoughts have to be normal, but deep down I know I was never given that choice. Just like the widow that remarries was never given that choice either. The only choice given is to live or to die in my grief.

I was running the other day and saw a lady pushing her 2 children in a stroller.  She had a newborn and was still carrying her baby weight. It felt good to run and have energy. I started thinking about how I'd love to run another marathon and how happy I am that I'm back in my jeans, but my heart really longed to be that overweight woman. I have a lot of freedom with only one child and that feels wonderful. I can work when I want. I get plenty of sleep and have a pretty easy set up. But this simplicity is not what I would have chosen. I would gladly accept the pounds and sleepless nights. Everything the comes with having Henry. But sometimes in life we aren't given a choice. We are given a bad set of circumstances and asked to trust Him no matter what befalls us. As I ran I thought, will I choose to live? Will I choose to have another child? Will I love God if it happens again or I'm unable to get pregnant? Yes, yes, and yes.

No one and nothing can replace Henry. He was created in God's image, knit together in my womb, known before he was even conceived. No high in this world can replace him. Not food or success or any material thing. Nothing, but the blood of Jesus can make his loss a gain. A gain for God's glory. A gain in my walk. A gain for The Kingdom.

Until I lost Henry, I never needed God. I know that sounds blasphemous and I hate to admit it, but it's true. I loved God, but I had everything I needed. When things were bad, I had my husband, my mom, resources to pull me out of any crisis. Losing Henry stripped me of all sense of security. No amount of money. No words of wisdom. No person. No high could fix my broken heart. Nothing on this earth could give me the only thing I wanted in this world...my Henry. It's the most helpless feeling, but the cross can give Henry purpose. It can make his life meaningful. It can make my pain matter. For the first time in my life I know what it's like to carry around the death of Jesus. I don't want to take that verse out of context, but for me it has meant that His death is now a constant reminder of the hope I have in Henry's death. The death of Jesus means everything to me. Not only did it save me from hell, but because of His death, Henry's life mattered.

100 Good Things

If you're gonna blame God for the bad, go ahead and blame Him for the good, too. I am so quick to blame God when things are bad. When I lost Henry, some of my first reactions were, "Why would you do this to me, God?" and "You did this." Because I believe in the sovereignty of God, I know my thoughts carry validity. There's no sugar coating it...In His perfect will, He took Henry home. In His perfect will, He also allows cancer, slander, unemployment, failed marriages, and poverty. But that's just part of it. He also allows healthy babies, successful marriages, good health, wealth and prosperity. Best of all, He allows good to arise from bad.

I'm so quick to blame God and so slow to thank Him. Yes, He took Henry for reasons beyond my comprehension, but He gives me day after day with Benjamin. I've probably blamed Him more for losing Henry then I've ever thanked Him for Benjamin. How this must hurt Him. I mean, look at all the healthy days we get. Then one bad diagnosis and all of a sudden God is cruel? He safely leads us home every time we get in the car, but one fatal car accident of a loved one and He is no longer good?

It's so easy to focus on the bad. I have too many moments where I zone in on my great losses. And too few where I focus on what I have. Oh, how this must break His heart. My husband is a great man. He works hard. He serves our family. He is a better husband, man and father every day. Do I tell him this often? Probably not, but I sure do focus on the few flaws he has. How wrong is that? And it's no different with God. It all comes back to renewing the mind. I'm in no way saying I shouldn't cry out to God my deepest thoughts, even if they are ludicrous, pompous, and immature. Being authentic in prayer has been one of the greatest weapons used against The Enemy. But I have got to focus on His goodness. For the one bad thing, I've got to remember the 100 good things. Because there are 100 good things. I don't care how bad life gets, there are always 100 good things.

Hope

Benjamin got both his power wheel cars out of the garage today and couldn't decide which one to ride. A flood of sadness hit me as as I stared at the empty one, realizing my sweet Henry won't be riding next to his brother. I was always told that time heals. It's been over 2 months, and I have yet to experience that. Maybe it's because my due date is getting closer and everything is a countdown. I should be over 31 weeks pregnant. I should be getting the nursery ready. I should be feeling his kicks. Instead, I feel sadness as I laugh with Benjamin and wish his brother were playing with us. Sometimes I wonder if he's looking down, smiling at his family. Can he see us? Can he hear me yelling at Andrew when really I'm taking my hurt out on him? Can he see me sin? How does Jesus hold every baby in heaven? And if Jesus isn't holding him, then who is? Does he have a mom in heaven? How old is he there? To be honest, I'm not sure how it all works. I have so many questions. But the same one keeps entering my head day after day....why? I know that's the question you're never supposed to ask. It's the question that never seems to get answered, but as I hear about babies being born and people getting pregnant it always enters my mind. "Why, God? I've loved You most of my life." When I lost Henry, I was walking with The Lord closer than I've ever walked with Him. I would have raised Henry to love God, so why him? Was I being punished? Would I have loved Henry too much?

A lot of people tell me they'd never be able to handle something like this. I often hear, "I can't even imagine." My answer is this, "Me neither." I truly believe God gives you what you need at that moment, for that moment. I've heard the phrase "God won't give you more than you can handle" my entire life yet no where is that in Scripture. Losing Henry was more than I can handle, so I can attest that this statement is untrue. What is true, however, is that He changes you when something like this happens. The old you can't handle it, but the new you can. But only a day at a time. Maybe an hour at a time. The moment I look ahead, even to the next day, I fall into overwhelming sadness that tempts me to lose hope.

For some reason church is one of the hardest places to be. Maybe it's all the babies in the nursery. Or Satan trying to hinder my worship. Or maybe it's a place full of hope that sometimes feels unreachable. Because some days I don't "feel" like hoping. Today was one of those days. I found myself looking at my flat tummy and wondering how big I'd be right now. I cried as I thought about having another baby one day because Henry will always be missing. I thought about how soon April 12th is approaching. All of it is so overwhelming. Some days are easier than others. Some days I smile and really mean it. Other days I feel as if the world is moving on and I'm stuck in one place. One of my favorite verses says not to lose heart. To renew our minds day by day. Even when I don't feel like it. Even when it feels like everyone has moved on. Even when I see a mother cradling her infant son...do not lose heart. The rest of the verse reminds us that this is light and momentary in comparison with the glory that far outweighs it all. I can't even fathom this being light and momentary, but if the glory that compares isn't even in the same ballpark as losing Henry...Wow. I want to be a part of that.

I find great comfort in King David's words after he lost his infant son.... "I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me." Now that's hope. David is telling us that babies will be in heaven! I will one day go to Henry. Even when I don't feel that way. Even when I have too many questions. I have this hope and it's written in the Word of God....I will go to him.

Earthly Heaven

Sometimes I catch myself in a panic because I'll be eating seafood or inhale secondary smoke. Then I look down and reality sets in. Every date is significant right now. I'll look at the cheese in my refrigerator and the expiration date is in May. My first thought is that Henry will be here before my cheese goes bad. Then I remember. It's been over 8 weeks, and I still feel phantom kicks. But my boy isn't there.

I walked into church this morning and saw so many pregnant women and newborn babies. Turns out it was Baby Dedication today. My heart burned with sadness, but God instantly reminded me that He has asked me to walk a different road. It did get me thinking though. I wonder how many women looked at me when I was pregnant and thought the same thing. Women who had miscarried or were dealing with infertility. Did their heart's hurt when they looked at me? Did they wonder why God asked them to walk a different road? Even now? Has there been a woman who cried when she saw me with Benjamin because she lost her son? I'd give anything to know these thoughts.

I saw a nursing mother the other day and told Andrew that she has no clue how blessed she is. He reminded me that I had no clue how blessed I was when I nursed Benjamin. He had a point. We were totally naive when we were pregnant with Benjamin. It never once occurred to me that I could lose him. Not once did I fear he wouldn't breathe outside my womb. The human in me would give anything to be that naive again. But the godly woman in me is thankful for the opportunity to really trust Him should I get pregnant again.

When I was pregnant with both my boys, I instantly acknowledged in their journals that they were God's children and on loan to me. I dedicated them to Jesus the moment I knew I was pregnant. I had no clue I'd really have to put my heart where my mouth was. That He would really ask me to give Him my son. Before I lost Henry, I never knew real pain. Sure I had trials. Since I was a child, things have never come easy for me, but I'd never really suffered. I would read Scriptures about suffering and think oh that's nice....for somebody else. It was always my sister's friend or my friend's sorority sister. Then one day it was me. Never in my wildest dreams did I believe these Scriptures would sustain me.

Before I lost Henry, I was the happiest I had ever been in my entire life. My husband and I were in Boston, and I remember thinking that life was heavenly. My marriage was in a good place. I had a beautiful son waiting for me at home and couldn't wait to give him a baby brother so close to his age. And I made plans. I had Benjamin's bedroom set picked out and was going to order an extra twin bed so he could share a room with his brother one day. I had started going through all of Benjamin's old clothes, had new items saved in my Etsy favorites and moved the crib into Henry's room. I was HAPPY! And it all changed in a second. In one moment, my dreams were shattered. But that's the thing about happiness. It's fleeting. I've been walking with Christ most of my life. Shame on me for thinking...for expecting...to have heaven on earth. That was never God's intention for any of us and while I'd change what happened out of my own selfish desire to have my Henry, I'm so thankful He got my attention. You see, I had no need for heaven before I lost Henry. I had everything I needed on this earth. I'm honestly shocked God allowed me to live that delusional for as long as I did.

I sometimes wonder why God allows so much suffering for one person and what seems like nothing for somebody else. In fact, I know quite a few people who appear to live "heaven on earth" as I once did. The human in me wants to remind God that it's not fair. Why do they get heaven and I don't?

2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

If I really get the point of this life...if I really believe that this is but a moment, who am I to balk at suffering? Why wouldn't I welcome it? If He bruised His Own Son why wouldn't He bruise me? Why wouldn't I delight in the fact that He chose me? It's the renewal of my mind that makes me able to walk a different road. To stomach babies and pregnant women when my arms are empty. To worship through my tears. To give up the idea of "earthly heaven."

"I am certain that I never did grow in grace one-half so much anywhere as I have upon the bed of pain." Charles Spurgeon

Fear Not

I felt true joy today. I took Benjamin to the fair and he was so excited that it warmed my heart to the core. It was a gorgeous day, and I was happy. Then I felt guilty. I felt guilty because Henry is gone and today I was happy. I know I have to continue to live. And that this wasn't my choice, but it almost feels wrong to smile. A friend of mine who lost a baby sister told me that she wanted to hang onto her anger as long as possible because to let that go would be letting her go. For so long she held onto her anger because she was afraid. Truth is, I'm afraid too. I'm afraid to live a life without him. I carried my sweet son every moment his heart beat on this earth. And now that it has stopped, I'm lost. But maybe being lost isn't so bad? Maybe being lost gives me no other place to go but to the arms of Jesus. I've always been one of those people who struggle with fear. And I'm not talking normal, healthy fears. I'm talking fear to the extreme, and I have so much fear of the future. Fear I'll lose Benjamin. Fear I'll never have another child. Fear I'll die trying to have another child. Fear I'll let Henry's death ruin me or that he will be forgotten. And so on and so on. I've come to realize that I can't help how I feel. I can't help that my first thoughts are fatalistic and that things scare me. But I can turn those fears over to The Lord. I can stay off Google and WebMD and throw myself into His Word and promises. And I can do things afraid. King David said in Psalm 55:4, "My heart is in anguish within me. The terrors of death have fallen on me." David was "a man after God's own heart." He was afraid, so why shouldn't I also struggle with fear? I don't think it matters if we're afraid or courageous. What matters is what we do with that fear. The Bible says things like "Do not be afraid" and "Fear Not" over a hundred times! God anticipated our fear so we can rest assure that being afraid is okay. Let's be honest. Life can be hard. We aren't promised a happy ending on this earth. I was never promised a healthy child. But I am promised comfort in my dark hour. I am promised eternal life. And nothing, even the most horrific of circumstances, can take that away. Not the death of a child. Not failure. Nothing. And for that reason, I am choosing not to be afraid.