Your Grief is Valuable...

I meant to get this posted last week, but here it is late instead;-)

...

Mom & me Black Friday shopping in 2005

I’m not sure about you, but I love a good deal. In fact, my family has participated in Black Friday shopping for almost 30 years! We love spending the day on Thanksgiving eating, visiting, and then scouring the ads planning our shopping day! It may seem silly to most, and in recent years, you can no longer view actual paper ads. In fact, this year they didn't even have their usual early morning doorbusters.  But the love of the hunt has always been fun for us (which is probably the only kind of hunting I enjoy, now that I think of it... lol) All of that being said, I love a great deal! And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s good to want to manage your resources well, but I think, in today’s society, we can often extend that way of living into other areas of our lives. I was reading in a devotional the other day, and it said the following in regards to experiencing Christ’s power: 

“The reason so many people fail to experience this divine principle is that they expect to receive it all without a struggle. When conflict comes and battle rages on, they become discouraged and surrender. God has nothing worth having that is easily gained, for there are no cheap goods in the heavenly market…” (L.B. Cowman)

When I got pregnant with Sparrow, there was a thought of, “Surely God wouldn’t allow me to get pregnant again only to end in another loss.” And I’ve questioned Him on this many times since losing our baby. “WHY, God? Why would you allow me to get pregnant only to take our baby away?” It’s in these moments I’ve had an opportunity to understand His ways are so much higher than mine. I don’t get a free pass out of potential trials just because I’ve endured one before. I have to realize the value of the trial and that God is capable of bringing good from any situation. The purpose is to bring Him glory no.matter.what. I don’t get to just put the situation back on a shelf when I don’t like the cost of it. Instead, I have the opportunity to take hold of it and carry it on with His help. Philippians 4:11 says, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.” 

Lucy's first Black Friday, 2007

Dealing with Sparrow’s loss isn’t the only thing our family has had to endure during this season. We’ve experienced the loss of our former church, and with that has brought us many challenges. But rather than become angry at what man has done, I have the opportunity to look at what God is doing.

I’ve had many moments recently of anxiety. Being someone who has struggled with depression and anxiety on and off throughout my adult life, panic attacks are not a stranger to me: the feelings of your chest tightening up and the area around you closing in followed by difficulty breathing and a racing heart…it is a moment of desperately needing to escape while feeling completely trapped. 

You never really know what is going to trigger one of these episodes. For me, recently, it was a simple trip to Walmart and the car wash. Now, many would say that my faith must be weak because I have panic attacks. Many might also say my faith is weak because I’m still dealing with deep grief over losing my baby. It’s the mentality of, “If you don’t like the price, put it back on the shelf and be on your way.” We think it makes us stronger when we don’t need to take moments to cry on the closet floor. We think our faith is stronger because we just keep smiling and pushing through every situation we encounter. But doesn’t Paul tells us that it’s in our weakness that we are made strong? You see, it’s not the act of anxiety or depression that is the issue—it’s our response to it. And, that response doesn’t have to be one of putting on your “big girl pants” and covering your wounds with a “God is sovereign” bandaid. We can still believe in the sovereignty of God when we cry and feel like we can barely catch our breath. Here is what that looks like for me lately… 

Black Friday 2023

Maybe I see a pregnancy announcement on Facebook and my heart sinks as I remember losing my Sparrow. I’m not upset that someone else has the joy of being pregnant—I’m just reminded of my loss and how much I miss our baby. But there are three directions these feelings can send me: 

1. The easiest one to go to is that my heart sinks and I begin to think of everything that is going wrong in my life. I cry and become angry or hopeless or maybe even a mix of the two. I allow my grief to take my eyes away from Jesus. 

2. Another option is I stuff the tears down inside and just say, “If I believe God is sovereign, then I need to move on.” But then I’m not dealing with those emotions, and, trust me, those emotions will find their way out somewhere else, and I promise it’s never a pretty exit! (I’ve not only personally experienced my own pain pushing through, but I’ve been the recipient of seeing someone else’s come out. If you don’t allow yourself to feel the hurt now, you are likely going to end up allowing it to cause hurt to someone else later…) 

3. But there’s also a third option. This one isn’t a quick option. It’s a process, and a process takes more time: I allow the tears to come and fall. I allow myself to express my sadness and even my anger or hopeless feelings. BUT, then I lift my eyes up. I tell God, “This hurt is so great. I don’t understand why this happened, but I know You have a plan. Please help me to trust it. Please help me look to You in these hard moments and trust what YOU have in store for me. Thank You for what You’re doing in others’ lives and the joy that they’re getting to experience right now, and please help me to know You still have a plan for me, too…” You see, my grief can actually be an opportunity to draw closer to Jesus when I recognize He’s sitting with me in the ashes, holding me, and collecting every tear that falls. I invite Him in to these moments of sadness and panic. I may not immediately rise up from it all, but if I can’t, I am still sitting in it in His presence. We can be victorious both when we allow Christ to lift us up from the ashes as well as when we allow Him to hold us and calm us through the storm. Wherever we can find Jesus is exactly where He wants us to be, and sometimes that is going to be in moments of the world closing in on you. We aren’t defeated when we fall, because we are being covered by the Almighty arms of our Saviour. 

I had this exact shirt back in the day;-)

I want to encourage you, friends: don’t let your grief send you into a hopeless state, but also don’t put your grief on the shelf and keep plugging along. God wants to show Himself to you through your blurred vision caused by the ugly tears. He’s allowing you to see life through a different lens. (Remember those Mossimo shirts back in the 90’s?) If we never sit in our grief, we never get to experience the compassion of a loving Father who wants to dress our wounds. He doesn’t just wipe away our tears—He COLLECTS them. And why? So that He can later pour them out over us in refreshment. See where you can find Him today, and make the choice to soak up His presence wherever that may be. It’s worth it, friend, because your grief actually has great value in the Kingdom of God!

Sorrowful, yet Joyful...

The littles after one of GP and AB's performances

It's been a minute since I sat down and really blogged out my thoughts and feelings as of late. Part of that is because it's been very busy, and with that busy-ness I've felt a need to try to be in the moment as much as possible. 

Evangeline as "Sally" in her CARS
class Showcase Performance

(Showcase performances for the classes I teach and that the kids take, rehearsals, tech week, performances, etc.) For the past week, that meant stopping the tears when they would start and pushing down the heavy and hard feelings as they arose because I just didn't have the mental energy to deal with them. I've cried so many tears that my face often feels raw as if it's been scratched. But with everything going on in my "back to normal" life, I'm currently in the process of finding a way to balance out being "in the moment" while still making moments to deal with the grief. I can't say that I'm doing it well, but I feel like committing to the process of trying to do it well is something. 

Me directing at showcase performance

Let me just take a moment to say that this whole "going back to normal life" feels almost like a Twilight Zone episode to me in many ways. Life feels anything but normal to me now. What I had envisioned this fall to be like has now taken a very different turn, and while the world continues on as if nothing has changed, I find myself trying to figure out where I fit since so much has changed for me. 

Lucy (right) in my advanced vocal class

Someone made the comment to me recently, "Well, it looks like you're doing pretty well..." The truth? I’m learning how to function again in the world while now having to make a separate space for my grieving heart. I’m trying to figure out how to be present and share in the joys going on around me while having to make time to collapse and recover from holding back the tears. I’m attempting to focus on the joys before me while figuring out when I can find time to bandage the sorrow that still exists. When you continue to live life in a world that your baby no longer is a part of, you find yourself exhausted. You celebrate the highs, but the reality of the lows is not lost. This is some of what that's looked like for me the past few weeks...

My precious middles just closed out a two weekend, 9 performance run of Junie B Jones the Musical Jr. It was truly SUCH an adorable show, and the artistic team, cast, and crew did an incredible job of bringing the heartwarming story to life on the stage. 

Gabriel had been in shows before we moved here, but it was his stage debut with CYT, and he played the role of Jose. He has such a beautiful voice, and it was so fun to see him and hear him. Annie had swore to me up and down for several years that she was "never" going to be on stage, but after enjoying her time on stage this summer through CCT, she decided the stage wasn't so bad after all, so Junie B. was her CYT stage debut as well. She got to announce the show each night to the audience, and it was so amazing to see her come alive on stage. She was confident, articulate, and a joy to watch.

Busy weekend of rehearsals and 
performances

If you're a parent, you've probably experienced this before like me: when you see your child doing something they love, it can bring tears to your eyes and make your heart just well up with so many emotions. I absolutely loved every moment of seeing Gabriel and Annie on stage the past two weekends! On opening weekend, I went from rehearsal with Lucy (which is truly such a blessing to get to do what I love and have my daughter there with me doing what she loves, too) to performances for Gabriel and Annie, and it was an entire weekend surrounded with my family and also so much support from friends. My heart was so full at all of the love and support from our CYT family. But I would find that while I did mostly okay around everyone, I would come home and literally just crash--physically and emotionally. It's hard to explain it, but it's basically just the feeling of being with those who you love and who love you back, and the joy of seeing your kids thrive, and the knowledge that God has truly given you so many amazing blessings in life mixed with the fact that my Sparrow will never get to experience any of that with us. I'm learning to embrace both the joys and the sorrows that coexist right now. I'm not sure I'm always doing it well, but as I stated earlier, I'm committed to the process, and I think that's a step in the right direction... 

Another peek into what that's looked like lately has been in deep cleaning and organizing. After an entire summer of being so sick from pregnancy-nausea coupled with a CRAZY schedule of activities, work, and church, my house was in desperate need of some extra attention. My closet needed cleaning out, and the little girls' room was beyond overdue from some attention. I think I'd been avoiding tackling it all for several reasons. One, it just felt overwhelming. But, two, it reminded me that it was in that shape because I'd been so sick, and I now had "nothing" to show for it. In reality, that's not entirely true, but that's how I felt. In fact, it made me mad. While cleaning out my closet, I came across the bike helmet I got for my birthday, just ten days before finding out I was pregnant. I had never used it since long distance cycling wasn't a good idea while pregnant, and the fact that I could use it now made me angry. I allowed myself to express that feeling, but I chose not to stay in it. I ended up taking my road bike out for a 20 mile ride, followed by another 12 a few days afterward. I had to stop a few times to wipe away some ugly tears, but it felt god to do something productive, just like it felt really good to make such great process in my closet and the little girls' room.

While out on my ride, the song , "Keep Me in the Moment" by Jeremy Camp came on my Pandora station. It was while I was riding in a part of the neighborhood I rode in after I lost Baby Kiki. It was crazy to see the different between now and then--when I first started riding there last year, they had just begun building the houses, but now, most of the neighborhood is finished. So much has changed, not just in the neighborhood but in my own life. I repeated the words as a prayer, "Lord, keep me in the moment because I don't want to miss what you have for me." I was reminded to find joy in whatever my present circumstance may be. Yes, I was super sick with both Baby Kiki and Sparrow, but I was so grateful that I got to be pregnant with them, and while I will never stop grieving the fact that I never will get to hold those sweet baby girls in my arms, I also see what God has filled my arms with instead. It doesn't replace them, but it reminds me that He has a plan and a purpose for everything He allows in our lives. I won't always understand His ways, but I can always TRUST His ways. Just as this neighborhood has grown and changed in the last few years, I see how God is growing and changing me, and if I refuse to keep pressing forward, I'll miss out on what He's doing, and I don't want to miss what He desires to teach me and do through my life. 

One of my devotions this week focused on 2 Corinthians 6:10: ..."Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing..."

Grieving as one with hope means finding that balance of being sorrowful yet joyful. And yes, there is SO so much in my life to be joyful about. I see the Lord’s hand on my life in so many ways—through the joys AND the sorrows. I’m reminded that I can have joy in the midst of my sorrow because I have hope in the One who has defeated death. But while I wait to see His glory fully revealed, there will be tears. And so I find Christ sitting with me in the dust, but I also find Him when I stand in the sun. His presence is there in both places, and if Christ can be present with me in both joy and sorrow then how is it wrong to grapple with both emotions? Whether this life sends me to my knees in defeat or pushes me to the heights in joy, Christ is still with me. I think, as Christians, we have been deceived in thinking that to have joy in Christ, we have to push through and be tough and not sit too long in our grief. It’s not the truth though, friend. My faith in God isn’t weak because I cry because it’s in those tears that I find Him in a new and fresh way when I allow Him to sit with me in the ashes. So yes, we make time to smile and enjoy life and rejoice in the good, but we also ALLOW grief to have its time and place. Whether in joy or sorrow, we can find our Father.

So that's basically where I'm at in these "Twilight Zone" type of days--finding the balance of sorrow and joy and recognizing how my Heavenly Daddy can be found in both. I'm so thankful He's so patient with us and that He never tires of listening to our hurt--His mercies truly are new every single day.

Praising Him in the Yeses and in the Nos...

We had my post-op appointment today...

The specialist that performed my surgery is in Downtown Houston, and if you've ever driven there, you know that the traffic is absolutely insane. I remember the day of my surgery, we had to be there right during rush hour. We got stuck in so.much.traffic and then the GPS didn't get us to the right building, and then we missed the turn into the parking garage. I was beyond late, and I had no way to get in touch with who I was supposed to check in with at the hospital. Thankfully, they gave me a call to ask if I was still coming, and I explained what was going on. They were very gracious, no doubt because they know Houston traffic all too well! By the time we got there, my anxiety was pretty high, and my nausea was even worse! All of the stopping and starting in the car from the traffic had sent me over the edge past my already debilitating pregnancy nausea. There are many things that are emotional triggers when you're experiencing a pregnancy loss, and the fact that my body still had all of my pregnancy symptoms even though I was not carrying a live baby anymore was a big trigger for me. It feels as if your body is playing a very cruel trick on you--your belly is still rounded out, you still "look" pregnant (in fact, it was just days before we found out we'd lost our baby girl that I bought my first pair of maternity leggings because my belly had finally popped. They're currently hidden somewhere in the closet. I can't bare to look for them to even get rid of them or to fold and put away in a storage container. I'd rather they just stay lost for now...), and you still "feel" pregnant...except you aren't. There's a part of you that wants to stay that way--to hold your baby in your belly as long as you possibly can because you know she'll never actually get to be held in your arms. Waking up from surgery with our first miscarriage and again with our second, the first thing I did was reach for my stomach and realize my baby was gone. It wasn't all a bad dream; it was the reality. My entire body and spirit felt completely empty. In some ways, I'm thankful they loaded me up with as many anti-nausea meds as they could, because it lessened the blow of everything since I wasn't quite "with it" for several hours. 

It's interesting the things that come to the forefront of your mind when your mind isn't exactly working at its fullest capacity. In recovery, I immediately felt an intense need to see my children. I needed to see that they were all okay. I told DH I needed to see our kids, so he showed me a picture from our family vacation, which apparently made me MAD. "No! I want to see them NOW! I want to see that they are okay in this very moment!" He sent my mom a text (my precious momma drove in and stayed with us for a whole week) and he said, "She says everyone is good!" I kept asking though, "NO! I need to SEE them!" It took awhile for GiGi to round everyone up for a photo, and I was being extremely impatient, but I settled down once I saw my four sweet babies all together smiling. 

Another thing at the forefront of my thoughts was work. I always geek out any time I go somewhere and see a grand piano, and this hospital had pianos everywhere! I guess I had remembered that because I told DH to grab my music so I could finish up recording for the show I'm vocal directing right now. I had stayed up late the night before I went in for the initial procedure for everything, and I was SO close to finishing recording all of the vocal parts for the show, but I couldn't quite get them all finished. I think there was a part of me that felt I had to rush back into the busyness of life. I wasn't pregnant anymore, and life had to move on. I was far from ready to move on, though. In fact, I'm still struggling with this. I was almost dreading today's appointment because it's kind of like a final chapter in all of this. Once the doctor "clears" you, it's as if it's all over...except it's not. I still find myself breaking into tears throughout the day. I so desperately want to still be carrying my baby with the wonderful expectation of getting to hold her in my arms in February. I know life has to go on, but it's a struggle to figure out how to resume normal life when your life will never be the same. 

Because my first miscarriage brought about so many complications, my doctor chose to be extra cautious in my appointment today, ordering labs and tests and exams that she wouldn't normally do. My HCG levels are still elevated, and it looks like I have some sort of infection. She also ordered a sonogram...it almost felt cruel to have to lie on that table for an ultrasound. (I'm not mad at her for it--she's been so thorough, informative, and extremely compassionate.) I thought back to all of the times we went in for ultrasounds in my other pregnancies and seeing those sweet images on the screen. But today, there was nothing exciting to see on the screen, so I stared up at the ceiling and counted all of the tiles--15 regular sized ones in rows of 3, with a half square to the right and a 1/4 square to the left of each row. There were no pictures to print out with images that you could barely make out of what was the head and what was the rear, there was no heartbeat to hear...just ceiling tiles to count. Because of what was found on the ultrasound, which is likely the cause of all of the pain I've been having since my surgery, I now have to make a choice of how to take care of the issue. Those of you who know me well know that I can be extremely indecisive--I don't even like having to pick a restaurant to eat at, so all of these very big decisions that surround a second trimester pregnancy loss have been excruciating. All I can do is pray and ask God to guide me to the right choices. 

When we arrived home, I quickly had to get Annie's makeup on for the kids' tech week rehearsal. While doing that, we discovered the dogs had both gone outside at the same time. This is only an issue when it has rained...which it had, and our pony of a puppy had THE best time rolling around in the mud trying to convince her brother Maxx to join in on the fun. (Being older and wiser, Maxx knew better.) This meant Ruby needed a bath ASAP, but bathing a 60 pound energetic dog is quite the task. As I was working on her, my husband came in to tell me his dad had fallen and his parents were at the hospital. He then came back to tell me they discovered his dad has broken his neck. I literally thought, "Lord, are you serious?? Why?" I honestly don't think we can handle any more surprises...or maybe it's just that I don't WANT to handle anymore surprises. It is definitely a time where it feels like when it rains, it POURS, and everything is left...muddy. (We are still waiting on word for if DH's dad will need surgery or not. Please pray for him, for my Momma2, and for the doctors.)

As I've grappled with all of these thoughts today, the Lord brought to my mind a precious story that He's used again and again to comfort me. I've probably blogged about it before, and you've possibly even heard me share it, but I needed to be reminded of it tonight, so I'm going to share it once again...

Many of you know that my daddy passed away when I was pregnant with Lucy. It was such a hard year for our family: Michael was diagnosed with cancer, and after months of trying to get pregnant, we were told we might not ever be able to have children on our own. However, just a month later, we were pregnant with Lucy, but just a month after finding out we were having a girl, my daddy passed away suddenly. The year ended with the birth of our long-awaited baby girl. It was truly a rollercoaster of a year. As I struggled through my daddy's death, my home church's pastor shared a Truth with me that I have carried with me ever since. He said something along these lines: "Paula-Beth, you prayed and asked God for your husband to be ok. God said, 'Yes,' and you praised Him for it. Then you prayed and asked God to allow you to have a baby. Again, God said, 'Yes,' and you praised Him for it...but this time, God has said, 'No.' He didn't answer you like you wanted Him to, but He wants to know, will you praise Him as much when He says 'No' as you do when He says 'Yes'?" 

That story has been brought back to my mind many times over the past 16 years, and I'm thankful God whispered it back to me again today. We prayed and asked God for a healthy pregnancy and to get to love and lead this child, but God said, "No," and He's asking me, once again, will I still praise Him, even in this? At this point, all I can do is ask the Lord to help me get to that point. I KNOW He is worthy of my praise, I know He is at work, and I know He will lead me to that place, but, for now, I just keep crawling into His arms for His comfort as I struggle through these moments. And you know what? My Jesus is so kind to be patient with me, to remind me of His Truth that He is worthy and at work, even in this. I'm clinging to Him in every moment and asking for the strength to glorify Him through this grief. I will say it again and again and again, not because I'm trying to convince myself, but because I refuse to let the Enemy drown out this Truth: "God, you are good, in both the yeses and nos."

A Changing of Seasons...

Fall has always been my favorite season, but I can’t say that this particular fall is my favorite.
It’s not the changes outside that I’m disliking. I still love it when I walk outside and there is a bite in the air from chillier temperatures, and I enjoy watching the leaves change colors and fall from their trees and dance in the wind. (We’ve only had a few days like that here in Texas, but this time of year always reminds me of the many falls I got to spend in Illinois where the change to fall was very much evident whereas, In Texas, fall is more of a “faux-l”🤣) The falling leaves from their absent trees remind me it’s time to let go and see what beauty will come from the process. But this particular fall, it’s harder to let go. Sure, there are some things I’m more than happy to let go of right now in my life. But there are others that are beyond painful to loosen from my grasp. It’s a season of loss that many of you may be all too familiar with. 

Seasons in life don’t always give the telling signs of change like the seasons on our calendars. The moment the leaves would begin to turn and the wind would pick up in a different direction, I knew fall was coming in Illinois. (Whereas, in Texas, it’s usually the first sighting of pumpkins being sold at Walmart that signal fall is upon us and dinner in a pumpkin can go in the oven🤣) But seasons also change in our lives, too, and the change from one season to another isn’t quite as obvious. In other words, you usually can’t tell at the exact moment when you’re entering into a new stage in life. There’s not an alert you can set up on your phone’s calendar. In fact, this season change in my life has caused me to have to remove many of those alerts I had anticipated in my previous season-apps on my phone that told me what size the baby was growing into every Tuesday, doctor appointments I had already scheduled, my c-section date when we would get to hold our baby in our arms…all dates I visibly could see and was greatly anticipating have now been removed, and with their removal, I can see how the season has changed in my life. Yes, now that I’ve had a few moments to breathe from the shock of everything, I can see it more clearly as I’ve begun the process of grieving what I thought life would look like in this moment instead of the cruel reality of what has become. I can see now when the seasons changed, but it wasn’t as graceful and beautiful as the sight of a colorful leaf floating to the ground. It was sudden and challenging, crushing and heartbreaking, and somehow hurtful and numbing all at the same time. And yet, as much as I find myself hating this unwanted change, I’m reminded… 

“To everything there is a season and a time for every matter under Heaven: 

A time to be born and a time to die,

A time to plant and a time to uproot,

A time to kill and a time to heal,

A time to tear down and a time to build, 

A time to weep and a time to laugh, 

A time to mourn and a time to dance,

A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, 

A time to embrace and a time to refrain,

A time to search and a time to give up, 

A time to keep and a time to throw away. 

A time to fear and a time to mend.

A time to be silent and a time to speak,

A time to love and a time to hate,

A time for war and a time for peace. 

What does the worker gain from his toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on men. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-11) 

I want to make sense of all that has transpired in these last several weeks, yet I’m reminded that I’m not always going to be able to fathom what God is doing, yet I CAN always find the signs of His presence in the midst of these changes. I think the questions we always want to ask in situations like this are something like the following:

“God, WHY??” 

“Why are you allowing this?” 

“Why did this have to happen?” 

“Why didn’t You stop this from taking place?” 

“Why did you allow the joy of this baby to come into my life if You were only going to take her away?”

The beauty is that God allows me to shake my fists into the air and question Him, and He is patient with me to guide those fists back down in prayer and worship of Him. It’s a process He allows me to go through that ultimately draws me closer to Him when I finally let those fists down in surrender and then open up my palms and ask a different set of questions. Instead of why, I begin to ask what, and how:

“Lord, WHAT are you wanting to do in this situation?” “God, WHAT is your purpose for me in this?” 

“Father, HOW can I respond in a way that will bring You the most glory?”

The obstacles we face in this life are opportunities for us to come face to face with our Father. Because of Who He is, He alone is able to take our losses and breathe life into us. It’s not until I hit the bottom that I can experience Him lifting me back up. Without the pain of hurt, loss and grief, I would never get to experience the comfort my Heavenly Father longs to show to His child. 

Ultimately, God wants me to turn to Him with thanksgiving and praise. Job, in the darkest of circumstances, was able to turn to the Lord and say, “In all circumstances—whether You give or You take away—I choose to bless your name—to praise You!” It often takes a bit of time to get to that point where I can say, “Lord, I praise you that my baby is no longer with us…” Just the act of writing those words brings me to tears and makes me uncomfortable. But I WANT to be at that point. Many would say my inability to proclaim that right now is sinful, but the truth is this: God knows my heart. He knows that my deepest desire is to praise Him through even this. At my core, I know He’s working this all together for my good and His glory. But right now, I’m in the thick of grieving through it all. It’s what I call the stage of “Lord I believe; help my unbelief.” God isn’t chastising me for grieving; He’s carrying me through it, and He’s also bringing people-His hands and His feet-into my life who are helping me carry this heavy load. These are the things I CAN praise Him for right now as I struggle to voice the other. 

A dear friend recommended a book to me this week: “The Book of Common Courage” by K.J. Ramsey. In it, she says, “Courage is not the possession of the bravest or biggest but the choice to move toward the heart when the mind and body are separated by fear. Courage is the choice to move our fear into communion….Courage is the practice of trusting we have a Good Shepherd who always cares…” You see, our grief isn’t sinful and our tears are not shameful. Rather, our struggles give us the opportunity to question God and lean on Him more than we ever have before. We can choose to let our grief help us dive into a deeper realization of our need for our Saviour. In these times of sorrow and hurt, we also receive the ability to experience God’s presence in a new way. We often see the Lord as all powerful and mighty, capable of any and all things. We see the promise of Him going before us to prepare us and behind us to protect us, but in times of grief, we can also experience Him being WITH us. 

Friend, if you’re experiencing a changing of seasons into a time of loss, know that you aren’t alone. Loss may signify death to us, but those who are in Christ have the promise of His victory over death. I don’t know how He will choose to redeem the loss we encounter, but I do know He promises to do so. Some days I’m able to cling to that promise more surely, and other days I find my fists up in the air again with questions and hurt, but in all circumstances, He is with me, and He is with you, too.

God’s Promises…

 

There’s something special and almost magical about spotting a rainbow. The vibrant colors reflected in the sky are truly a beautiful sight to see, and from a spiritual standpoint it’s a significant reminder of the promises of God. God used the rainbow to specifically promise that He would never flood the entire earth again. As believers, this beautiful symbol can also remind us of each of His promises upon our lives.

When I was a teenager, there was a popular CCM artist who had a very heavy classically trained pianist background. I spent hours a day in my teenage and early adult years training as a classical pianist, so I really resonated with his music. At that time, the local Christian radio station would frequently play his song “Rainbows in the Night.” Listening to it today, many would find it sounds pretty dated as styles have changed quite a bit since then, but I still love the gorgeous classical solo moments and the deep meaning to the lyrics: 

[Verse 1]

Deep within this darkened heart of mine

The Word of God still shines with hope

Deep within this frightened life I live

A voice so soft and still grows

And when the sun is hidden

And the shadows cloud my starless skies

Amazingly, I turn and see a light

[Chorus]

God's promises are rainbows in the night

Shining hope inside when shadows cloud my eyes

His promises are rainbows in the night

Guiding through the darkest times

God's promises are rainbows in the night

You may be aware that a baby born after a miscarriage is often referred to as a “rainbow baby.” This is because rainbows symbolize beauty after a dark time just like the birth of a baby brings joy after such a tragic loss. Our pregnancy in 2022 was something we’d never planned on, but when we miscarried, our family was suddenly missing someone. We prayed and asked God what He would birth from that feeling, so when we became pregnant again this year, we were cautiously ecstatic. Conversations soon became centered around “When the baby comes…” as we prepared for this precious one’s arrival.

I struggled every day with fear of losing this baby, too, but I knew I had to choose to trust. (I think we often shame ourselves when we struggle with fear, but it’s not the actual fear that is the problem. Rather, it’s what we choose to DO with that fear. For me, this meant I had to make a constant choice to look to the Lord, and isn’t that where we ultimately want to be?) As I daily chose to surrender my fears and trust the Lord, a frequent prayer was that God would prepare my heart to grieve or rejoice for whatever HIS plan was for this baby. In the end, this meant that the Lord was preparing my heart to grieve another loss, as Sparrow was not meant to be our rainbow baby. 

Before my surgery, a sweet friend brought a meal over to our house along with the most precious gift—glasswork art of a rainbow. She told me that as she made it, she prayed for our family. It’s hanging in the window by where I have my quiet time, and I love how the sun shines so brightly into it at certain points of the day, reflecting such rich, vivid colors. 

As I reflect on losing Sparrow, I will be totally honest with where I’m at in this process of my grief which is I just do not understand how this could be God’s plan for us. Why even allow us to get pregnant again if He was going to take this baby from us? I’m thankful God allows me to come to Him with these questions. Rather than blame Him or become bitter, though, I so desire to surrender the hurt and confusion and just let Him wash over me with His comfort and love and grace. I’m reminded I can question God while still ultimately choosing to trust Him.

I have come to terms with realizing I may never understand why this played out the way that it has, but I do know that the Enemy would love nothing more in this situation than for me to allow my limited understanding of God’s plan to cause me to question my ability to trust in Him. Anger, bitterness, and confusion won’t bring my baby girl back, but surrender to the Lord will bring me comfort as I struggle through my hurt, grief, and loss. It’s in the darkest of night when we get the blessing of experiencing a peace and comfort that only our Heavenly Father can give. I can understand joy better when I have experienced sorrow. I grieve deeply because I loved deeply, and I can recognize beauty more fully when I know what it feels like to sit among ashes. No one wants to experience pain, but we get the opportunity of experiencing comfort on a deeper level when we have endured great hurt and loss. 

As we drove home from the hospital on Friday after my surgery, it started to rain. Just one exit from our home, my husband said, “Paula-Beth, look! Look at the sky!” As I looked up, I saw a full rainbow painted across the sky. My husband and I both began to cry. It was as if the Lord was saying, “I see you, and I see your pain. You are not forgotten. Don’t forget the promises I have for your life.” 

I know we are being held by the Ultimate Comforter as we wade through this season of intense grief. I know His promises are just as true today as they were two weeks ago when my baby was still alive. Again and again I will choose to trust. This is a dark time in our lives, but we know He has overcome the darkness, and in His kindness He continues to send us messages that point to His light piercing through these dark moments. His Word is True, and He is ever faithful and good, friends. As I wrote these words the other day as the rain fell against my window, this was my prayer: "I’m going to cling to Your Truth, Your faithfulness, and Your goodness with all I have today as I hear the storms raging outside on this rainy fall day, and as the storms of my life rage up within me. Yes God, you are still good, even in this." 

Being the Hands and Feet of Christ

Just a head's up: this is a long post. I thought about breaking it up, but wasn't sure the best way to do that. Writing has always been cathartic for me, and right now, I just need to be able to speak what's on my heart. As much as I hope all of these words are able to minister to someone, I needed to find an outlet to just express where I'm at right now, and apparently, there's a lot swarming around in my brain these days! Whether or not you make it through this entire post, thanks for giving me an opportunity to share my heart...

I think anyone reading this has walked through some sort of tragedy in life, and I hope you’ve been blessed by having people come alongside you as you struggle down a path you never expected to have to walk. These paths are numerous in type and unique to each individual, though, andmany of us often struggle in finding the best way to come alongside those we care about in their times of grief, loss, pain, etc. As I was reflecting on how so many have reached out to us during this recent unexpected turn in our life, I wanted to share my gratitude for all that everyone has done, but also offer some ideas on how to come alongside each other for those of us who struggle knowing what to do when tragedy strikes those we love…

The last week+ has been a devastating one for our family learning that our baby was no longer growing inside of me. Many of you know I had a late first trimester loss back in April of 2022. It was a total surprise pregnancy that rocked our world, but we quickly became ecstatic to tackle what we thought was a new and exciting path for our family. We have grieved over losing that precious baby girl, so when God surprised us with a “rainbow baby” back in June, we felt overwhelmed with the blessing and excitement to have the opportunity to add another member to our family. I had to remind myself daily that it was okay to both be extremely excited but hold all things loosely, knowing that God’s ways are perfect and good, and I could trust Him with whatever outcome He had for this new pregnancy. Our baby was fully formed with all of her organs in place and my body was busy providing what she needed to grow inside of me. But it was not God’s plan for us to get to bring this baby home and love her in our arms. I may never understand the reason for this loss on this side of Heaven, but it doesn’t change the Truths that God has promised me: 

“…I will never leave you or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6) 

“The Lord is FAITHFUL to all His promises and LOVING to all He has made.” (PSALM 145:13)

“…for the Lord comforts His people and will have compassion on His afflicted ones.” Isaiah 49:13b 

“When you pray, I will answer you. When you call to me I will respond…” (Isaiah 58:9a)

“The Lord, the Lord God, is merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abounding in goodness and truth.” (Exodus 34:6)

“…For Lord will go before you,the God of Israel will be your rear guard (also go behindyou)…” (Isaiah 52:12b)

We see the character of God and His promises to His people woven throughout Scripture. I could easily go on and on, as my list is far too short, but hopefully you’re catching my drift that the Word of God is True and we can trust Who He is. I’m not capable of fully understanding His ways because I’m not yet fully glorified with Him.

I can, however, trust His heart, and it’s a choice I get to make whether or not I will do so when faced with circumstances completely out of my control. One thing I never lose control over, though, is my choice in how to respond to what He allows in my life, and that has been a hard reality lately during this time of mourning. I believe God knows our human minds will often struggle to truly understand His character-His goodness- when our circumstances seem anything BUT “good,” but He is merciful to us in our questioning. I believe we often experience both His mercy on us and a glimpse into His character by Him giving us tangible reminders through the outpouring of love of His people. He’s been so gracious to bless me with that in this situation, and it’s made me realize ways I can bless others with a tangible expression of God’s love when they are hurting. With this, I realized maybe I’m not the only one who sometimes struggles with trying to navigate sorrow with a loved one when you haven’t walked a similar road. So, I just wanted to take an opportunity to share how others have responded to us in the past week and a half. My heart is both so full of gratitude and grief at the same time. It’s a strange combination to experience, but I thank Him for coupling my grief with His tangible compassion. 

1. When you’re in the midst of losing a baby and are faced with unimaginable decisions, you may find that you just aren’t capable of making normal, everyday decisions. Just because one life stops doesn’t mean that the other responsibilities in your life stop, too. I currently just don’t have the ability to make simple decisions for my family as we’ve had to make some VERY weighty decisions that have no “good” or easy outcomes, and as my body has fought infection during the wait to be able to pass my baby, and now as I recover physically and emotionally from no longer carrying this baby inside of me, it’s just been really hard for me to even decide which clothes I need to wash for everyone for the week. (I’m being very vulnerable right now-maybe others don’t react this way, but my body kind of went into flight mode this past week.) The day before we found out our baby had died, we had planned to make a big Costco trip as we were in serious need of groceries. I began to feel especially nauseated that evening (I tend to get debilitating nausea in my pregnancies until I get close to the halfway point), so we decided I would rest that night and make the trip the next day instead. However, we weren’t anticipating an emergency trip to the doctor that day instead of a grocery run. After coming home with the unbearable task of sharing this devastating reality with our kids to try to help them begin the process of their own grief for their baby sister, I was mentally spent and almost frozen in how to return to normal life activities. The next day, I tried to sit and just make a simple meal plan and grocery list, and my mind my went completely blank. We survived on takeout those first few days until a precious coworker and friend set up a meal train for our family. Now, I know I have so many people who I could ask in a heartbeat in a situation like this if they would be willing to cook a meal for us, but I felt so guilty asking anyone to take on that burden when they have their own families to feed in the midst of very busy schedules. Having someone just set this up for us, and then seeing loved ones eagerly sign up night after night to make meals or provide resources for us to be able to easily feed our family each day has been an incredible act of kindness and outpouring of love for our family. Even as simple as dropping off disposable plates and utensils so we don’t have to worry about cleaning up after a meal—I had no idea the burden this would lift from me during this time. I cannot even begin to express how much it has meant to me to have the ability to feed my family well through all of this, and just to not have this one, extra thing to think about and plan for right now. I will never, ever forget this tremendous act of kindness and love. All that being said, never underestimate how simply dropping off a box of Kleenex and a package of cookies, or if you have the time to make a home cooked meal, or the resources to send money for doordash—how all of these things can provide a tangible experience of God’s care and provision to someone who is hurting and struggling.

2. Another way we have experienced God’s kindness is from friends who have literally shown up on my doorstep and scooped up my kids to take them to classes, rehearsals, or offer rides home, and even having them join their family on fun outings. I’m emotionally and physically unable to do these things with my kids right now. (This may sound extreme, but I was literally waiting for my body to suddenly go into labor that had a high risk of me also hemorrhaging  before making it to the hospital. I was in physical pain from cramping and trying to fight off infection, and now experiencing the physical and emotional pain of recovering from surgery. My body and mind just haven’t been capable of a lot of things we normally do, so having people step in and step up has again been such a beautiful expression of God’s love and kindness through His people. My little ones may not be able to fully express to you right now how important this is for them, but I promise you this momma sees it, and I know they’ll look back on it one day with a true appreciation. I also see you being gracious with my older kids who haven’t figured out a way to properly articulate how they’re feeling, and you’ve offered them love and patience when maybe they seem to ignore your condolences. I see how it touches them even though they may not express it well. You are being salt and light to them, and it has been a blessing to my hurting heart and provided for a need I don’t really have the guts to always ask for—when you’re dealing with a heavy burden, the last thing you want to do is place even the smallest burden on someone else. 

3. I’ve also experienced God’s tangible love through precious coworker friends eagerly and willingly taking over my responsibilities at work so I can have the time I need to recover. They all have plenty on their plates, too, and it has been so selfless of them to allow me the time my body and spirit need. As I awoke from surgery today, one of the first things out of my mouth (I was highly “under the influence” and only know this because my husband shared it with me) to my husband was, “get me my binder—I need to finish recording parts for rehearsal and work on my lesson plans.” My husband quickly reminded me that all I needed to do in that moment was rest and remember that all of that was already well taken care of. When you’re grieving, your mind often freezes (as I’ve explained previously) but at some points it will awaken in a very frantic way. For me, this is out of guilt of placing a burden on someone else. I felt the need to get back to work as quickly as possible. But in reality, my body and my mind need time to recover, and my husband reminded me that I have MANY people who are happy to give me that time. (If you are up for a laugh, feel feee to ask my hubby all of the off the wall things that came to out of mouth while waking up from anesthesia and a cocktail of nausea medications.)

4. Yet another tangible way people have shown me God’s love is through literal tangible things I can look at to add beauty to a time filled with ashes. I have been surprised with flowers delivered to my door and handmade gifts with very special meanings that I can look at and find comfort in as I remember my baby girl. These items truly have lifted my spirits because it’s just not the gift that is meaningful— it’s also the time and thought the person placed into it desiring to let me know they see my pain. At the hospital, the chaplain came to see us and pray with us, and with him he brought some information for dealing with grief as a mother, a father, and even for our parents. He also included a sweet teddy bear. My precious Evangeline fell in love with this “baby Sparrow” bear. After being told her baby sister’s body was still in my belly, but her heart had stopped beating so her soul was now in heaven, she has struggled fighting off tears (she’s very adamant she doesn’t want to cry) but she has very much been impacted by this loss. Each day since, she has come up to my belly to hug and kiss the baby. It’s something she looked forward to daily in my pregnancy, so I think it was very hard for her to let go of the way she had tangibly been showing love to a baby sister she so desperately wanted to be the “best big sister” to.

The night before the surgery, I had to make sure she understood that after that day, the baby’s body would no longer be in my belly. Without saying a word, she went up to my belly and gave her sister one last kiss and hug. So today, when I came home with something tangible representing her baby sister, I truly think it meant the world to her. We currently have “Barrow” (as in sparrow’s bear) sitting on a cabinet, and she will randomly go pick it up and give it a quick hug before returning it to its current place. I never would have thought that could help her in her own grieving process, so I’m so thankful for whoever had the idea to gift grieving families with something like this. All that being said, both people we know well and people we have never met have used their resources, talents, and insight to show us comfort and love in a very real way. 

5. Perhaps one of the simplest, yet often hardest, of ways you can show God’s tangible love to someone walking through loss is through a simple text message, voicemail, card in the mail, or quick in person hug if you run into them. I know it can feel awkward to reach out when there are no perfect words to be said, but your time and effort to offer compassion is a refreshment to a weary heart. Honestly, for me, having the answers for how to walk through this grief isn’t what I need—I just need to know you’re willing to walk through it with me. Believe me, I know it can be awkward to reach out when there seem to be no words. I have found myself in this place before and chose not to speak out of fear of saying the “wrong” thing. But, just knowing that you’re willing to walk beside me and sit in the ashes with me is an incredible gift to a grieving soul. A text as simple as, “I heard this sermon or song today and it ministered to me and brought you to my mind. If you’re feeling up to listening, I pray it comforts you in some way.” Or, “I have no words for what you’re experiencing, but I want you to know I’m here for you and I love you. How can I pray for you specifically today?” Or maybe some of you are able to share from personal experience and then extend the offer of a compassionate ear. Our lives are each unique and we can’t ever truly understand exactly what someone is going through, but there is SUCH comfort in sharing your willingness to walk alongside someone in their personal grief and loss. Thank you for braving that awkwardness and just letting me know you love me, again and again. Your messages bring such comfort to me even if I’m not able to respond right away. (Many of these messages have shown up right in the midst of an emotional breakdown, after a difficult phone call from my surgeon, or just in a moment when I’m feeling very lonely. Many times when I find the tears flowing, I will go back and read over these messages or listen to the songs you have shared because they help point me back to the Lord as I’m grieving. Never underestimate the power of telling someone you love them and care for them. In doing so, you are helping a hurting heart see Jesus more clearly in the midst of a very confusing time. 

6. Please don’t take this next one the wrong way—what I’m not suggesting here is that you need to send someone money when they’re experiencing loss like this, but I can’t fail to mention how God has shown us His provision during this difficult time. God has given us people who have helped offset a very unexpected financial burden. The truth is that losing a baby at this stage often costs much more than actually getting to deliver your baby at full term and bringing them home. We didn’t know how we would cover the first bill that came in just TWO days before it had to be paid, but God has been providing for that need, and it’s been a humbling reminder that God ALWAYS provides for our needs. It shouldn’t ever take me by surprise, but I’m ever blown away at His timing and provision through His people.

I could go on and on about how so many of you, both near and far, have ministered to our hearts, minds, bodies, and souls as we walk this difficult road. The body of Christ is truly so beautiful, and we all have the ability to play different parts in it. Every single act of kindness you have shown has meant more than I’ll ever be able to adequately express. You truly have shown so very many tangible acts of God’s incredible character—His presence, faithfulness, love, mercy, faithfulness, goodness, etc. etc. etc.! I hope I haven’t overlooked thanking any of you personally, but if I have, know it’s not at all intentionally; I’m just not thinking clearly these days. Please know your selfless acts of God’s love mean the world to me right now and are helping hold us up during all of this.