Hallelujah, He is Good!

I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of The Lord in the land of the living. Wait for The Lord, be strong and take heart and wait for The Lord.                                                  Psalm 27:13-14

As Henry's due date approaches, my heart aches more and more. I would probably be done with his nursery by now. I'd probably be FAT and oh so excited! But I'm not. I'm sad. And envious every time I see a round belly. I just want to run up to every pregnant person I see and scream, "Do you know how blessed you are!"

When I was playing with Benjamin the other day, I couldn't shake the feeling that I failed him. I so badly wanted him to have a little brother, but my body failed. When I lost Henry, a sweet friend who lost her husband told me that even now, decades later, she walks around feeling different than everyone else. I couldn't agree more. There's a loneliness in grief that makes you so different from everyone else. Only others who have lost can relate in theory, but not directly to your loss.

My mother reminded me that God would not allow pain unless He has great purpose in it. I want to believe that and I do most days, but some days I just feel cheated. Some days I wonder how the God of All Creation, my God who I've walked with for years, would take that which I hold dearest to my heart. I know all the church answers. I know this is light and momentary. I know Henry's in heaven. But that does nothing for my heart. My pain. I still find myself comparing my life to others. I'll tell God that it's not fair that this person has everything while that person has nothing. I still find myself wondering what I did wrong. Did God take Henry because I gossiped too much or turned to food instead of Him? Or maybe because I love my kids too much? Maybe he took Henry because he would have been a false idol. I know none of this is true, but it does enter my mind. Every day I fight the battle of these thoughts.

People have asked me if I'm a little thankful that God took Henry because he may have suffered or been handicapped. My answer: absolutely not. Besides, He could have healed him. My uncle is a prominent physician and he had severe hydrocephalus as a child. But these thoughts aren't helpful. They actually make things worse. So here I am, 3.5 months later, still training my mind to turn my thoughts to Him. After all, He knows what it's like to give up His Only Son. He could have done things another way. He's God! He didn't haven't to sacrifice anything. But He did. He did for me. He did for Henry.

I like to think that heaven was praying over me the night before I lost Henry. That Christ and the angels prayed around the clock as Henry took his last breath in my womb. That they welcomed him in heaven while praying for my broken heart. I have great joy that my son is in heaven. I have great joy that he didn't suffer a bit. And I have great hope that this pain will be redeemed. That it will be used in a beautiful story that will bring great joy and comfort to others. Some days I lack faith to think like this. I doubt in ways I've never doubted before. What if this whole Christianity thing is a pretty red bow we wrap around our problems just to make us feel better? I'm embarrassed to say I've thought this quite a bit since losing Henry. I mean, how else can you sugar coat losing a child in your womb as you're praying for their sweet soul? These thoughts come straight from hell. Satan would love nothing more than for me to lay down and die. To turn from the One who I've walked with for so many years. Jesus has reminded me through my doubt that I know Him. Sure there are moments that He seems so far away that I doubt everything I've ever believed. But thats where our relationship comes into play. You see, I have a track record of His faithfulness. I have a history of His divine intervention in my life. That's what I cling to when I lose faith. And while losing Henry is the most horrific thing that has ever happened to me, I have to look at the big picture. Not the church answer that God is good all the time. But the consistency of His goodness in my life over the last 3 decades. After all, didn't Jesus say: You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.

Hallelujah, He is good. Even when I can't see in the moment, Hallelujah His Word declares that He is good.