Last night, after sitting here at the computer making myself stinking sad reading other blogs of women who had lost their babies, I dragged myself to bed reluctantly. My sleep lately has been interspersed with periods of wakeful reminiscing.
I took Jenna’s memorial picture to the bed-side table with me and kissed it, longing to just run my hands through her hair again or kiss those chubby cheeks or to even peel the bits of skin on her arms that were remnants of a sun-kissed day we spent walking on the farm. I had been compulsively picking at those bits of dead skin the day that picture was taken, to Jenna’s disgust.
Too consumed with longing for my baby to be able to go to sleep, I pulled my bible closer. I started reading where I left it open the night before:
Psalms 103:13 to 17: Like as a father pitieth his children, so the LORD pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust. As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more. But the mercy of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him, and his righteousness unto children’s children,
I started talking to God. Yup, I am dust, I am frail, and I need your mercy, God. I tried to draw near to him. I have come to know him enough to know that where he is, his mercy is too. Like he always does, he came…and with him a sense of his mercy and goodness. Which opened the floodgates so to speak, as I poured out my heart to him.
This is a hefty one, Lord. It just about rips me apart. And it’s not just a quick do-what-you-need-to-do-Lord-and-lets-get-this-done-and-over-with kind of trail. This hole in my heart is going to be with me for the rest of my life.
I started thinking about how people always say that God understands because he gave His own son up for dead once. It must have torn his Father-heart in two to see his son suffer the way he did. I am thankful that Jenna never had to suffer like that. But God, I said (being on a let’s-be-perfectly-honest-with-God roll), I don’t think you can quite compare my situation to yours. You knew that Jesus was going to rise again. And just in 3 days at that. You’d be seperated from Jesus for just a little while and then everything would be OK. I have a life-time to wait, armed with only a sketchy faith of what heaven might be like. Is that really fair?
As precious as he is he reminds me that he himself is a faith-filled being. He has faith in Himself. It is by that faith that he spoke the world into existence. I can have faith in him too. In fact, the faith I have in him, is his gift to me. I can believe, and because I do, time becomes immaterial. Three days or thirty years…what are they in the scheme of things compared to eternity?
One more thing, Lord…I have this desperate longing to hold Jenna again, but I am afraid because I have no clue what to expect. When I see her again, will she still be my precious little muffin and I her ‘best’ mama? Or will she just be someone I used to know? I cannot bear the thought that our precious relationship might be lost forever. That is the hardest and most incomprehensible, unbearable burden of all.
As I pondered this it occured to me – though he had to turn his back on his Son for a short while, it wasn’t forever. The Father didn’t lose his relationship with Jesus after he died, they are still as intimately connected as ever, as a father and son. I have been told that God does not require us to do things he would never do himself. To ask me to step outside of his own boundaries and sever a love and a precious relationship like mine and Jenna’s, when it is something that he with his father-heart would never do and has never done…that doesn’t sound like my God.
Still, I don’t know everything, and I can only trust. But like a wise man once said (you can read about it here), to know him is to trust him.
If I know anything about God and his generous, faithful heart, there will be more to gain, and precious treasures in store. Even on this side of heaven.
I see your mercy, Lord. Thank you for knowing my frame, and knowing that I am dust. Jenna is gone for now, but your mercy is from everlasting to everlasting, it reaches to the heavens. I can trust in that.