Processing Life’s Gifts
Babies aren’t supposed to die. They’re supposed to be born, grow up, and die when they’re old and gray adults. But we live in a fallen world and sometimes the fall out lands on us. I’ve been reminded of just how hard the fall out can be this week when one of my daughter’s dear friends found out her baby boy died just 3 weeks before he was to be born. That life line, the umbilical cord, got twisted and tangled around his neck. Tears have flowed. Please pray for this sweet family.
Tears are a strange sort of gift. But when we cry it empties us so there is more room in us for God…for His grace, His comfort, His peace, His tender mercies. Room for Him to till the soil of our hearts and grow for His glory.
Lucie would be 3 years and 5 months old had she lived. Her then teenaged Mom was one of my clients. We knew early on Lucie would die shortly after being born, so we had time to prepare…if you can ever prepare for holding life and death in your hands within minutes of each other. Together we clung to God’s rope of hope and experienced the presence of God in the midst of great sorrow and suffering. It was a presence that empowered the young Mom, “T”, to survive the scars and planted seeds of hope that eventually blossomed and today she is a thriving young woman.
The rest of this post is from my journal dated February 9, 2011.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Matthew 5:4
In some ways life has flown by this week, and yet in other ways, life stood still. It’s been a week of savoring both the sacredness and the sorrows of life. I’ve seen grace abound, yet I’ve also pleaded for more in the dark hours of grief, fumbling to make sense of how life and death come from the same Hand at nearly the same moment.
I’ve witnessed first hand an umbilical cord cut, ushering in new life; only to watch that life silently pass. Like a butterfly’s dance in the wind, so has life been this week; a thing of beauty and grace, fluttering about and then suddenly it is no more.
The grace of God has trained us for this moment. Forced to feel the burn of pain in order to benefit from the fruit of His grace both now and later. We knew life and death would come partnered together.
But it’s hard.
It’s hard to listen to a mother’s sweet voice singing tender lullabies to her child and minutes later hear the guttural tones of a mother’s heart being ripped from her chest.
I sat helpless by her side holding them both in my arms. Were the bitter tears I tasted my own or hers? I could not tell for they were mingled together.
“God, shower your grace upon us! Help us see You through this pelting storm!” My heart cried silently – I think. Maybe I whispered it aloud. Maybe that’s why I tasted the salty, bitter tears.
I may have been the teacher, the mentor, the life coach through all of this, but He has taught me life lessons as well. Lessons I need to write down as reminders of these gifts He’s given me this week, gifts cloaked in sadness and pain as well as some with great joy.
Processing Life’s Gifts
When I look only for blessings through the conduit of happy times and prayers answered ‘my way’ as an assurance of His love, I’m limiting my experience of God. All things come to me through His hand. Dare I only select the tastiest seeds to dine on and ignore the seeds that don’t taste as sweet? Are they not both meant for my good?
His gift to me is the full vocabulary of life’s poetry and sometimes there are words and stanzas of sorrow and grief.
As I listened to this young mother’s songs of lullabies and laments, I’ve realized His gift is all the music, even the discordant phrases and movements that are sometimes difficult and tragic. There is beauty to behold in His singing over me.
I can be as enthralled by life and it’s stony and sometimes thorny paths as I can be with its sunshine and flowers.
The full measure of life’s gifts include trials, the kind that change and transform me for His glory.
Those hard things that surround me can not destroy or harm me. Sometimes that hard place is actually God Himself standing up against that which seeks to destroy my faith. He’s my rock, my refuge, my fortress, a sheltering strong tower.
More than having life my way, He is what I want.
He is Life’s Gift.
I am praying for the sweet mother mentioned above.
This brings to mind my favorite Bible verse:
Zephaniah 3:17 (NIV)
(He rejoices over you with singing)
This is so beautifully written. Thank you sweet friend. So blessed by your words tonight.