Thursday, June 7, 2012

Four years ago...

Four years ago, I had a journal. It looks innocuous enough, but it is filled the brokenhearted rants of a newly bereaved mom. Tear stained pages are bound by a soft cover. You wouldn't know by looking at it what it really holds.
This particular entry was written 7 months after Owen's death and weeks after chipmunk's. Everything was so raw and debilitating.



That awful moment when they told us you were gone,
he stared back unblinking.
"Is that it? Is there nothing you can do?!"
His eyes searching for an answer.

You were gone in the blink of an eye.
A flash of lightning hit me when I wasn't looking.

The home stretch turned to a dirge,
a slow crawl to the graveyard.
Born asleep, and laid to rest
next to your great granddaddy.


Lord, I need you. I know I have been extremely disrespectful and so angry with you. I have yelled, cursed and told others how angry I am at you. I was wrong. Wrong to speak against you.

I have no right to demand anything of you.
I want answers... to know why you thought it was good for Owen's life to be 36 weeks in my womb. For Chipmunk, to die or be killed?...

I want to understand and... and... believe that you know best. That you are in control of everything and that Owen did not die because of a mistake my doctors made, or an oversight, or because of something I did wrong.

I want to believe that you are a good and loving God. That nothing escapes your sight, and you knew exactly what you were doing when Owen's heart stopped beating- it wasn't a mistake, but a plan- part of a plan for amazing things- and Owen's life was important- a very essential part of your good plan for your children.

Please. Please will you help me trust you?

I can't do it without you. I am weak and unbelieving. I am a coward.

Will you soften my heart to you and your ways? I guess I don't have to understand, but I would like to have peace in my life... in the life you've given me to live.

Dear Lord, will you help me? I am in deep trouble. Stuck in sin and depravity- unable to save myself.

Will you pull me out?
Will you forgive me? I repent.
I know that I will keep sinning because I am human, but I want to live as your child... I want to know you better. I love you, Lord. Please have mercy.




These were the words of a broken woman. A woman who looked broken- from the shadows under her eyes to the way her mouth went unsmiling for months. As I type these words today four years later, I still sit a broken woman. We live in a broken world, but we have a faithful Father. One who loves us and has a plan for us. He never leaves us or forsakes us. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

I pulled out my journal today to write a new entry, another chapter in our story. One that echoes with God's faithfulness. There is still so much brokenness, so much sadness and hurt, but praise the Lord there is peace and hope and beauty too. 
Thank you, Father.


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