Anger and Thanks

I promised an honest heart, so here it is, once again...

It was bound to happen. I've experienced a gamut of emotions through these last 6 months, sadness, loneliness, denial, acceptance, but not until these past few days, anger. But I have arrived at the anger station and today especially I have found myself having it out with God. I think the bulk of my anger stemmed from watching several friends of mine in the last week have babies or announce pregnancies. I am truly happy for each one of them, but so incredibly grieved for myself at the same time, and I have come to the place where I couldn't help but ask "Why me? Why is this so difficult for me?" I asked the dreaded why, the word I have so carefully been guarded from in the last 6 months. Yet here it was, the why, and the answers are of course absent. There isn't a clear why, at least not one I can define, so what do I do with this question? What do I do with this observation of the blessings that others seems to be so richly receiving? What do I do when I continue to live without this blessing? My heart's response is to get angry.

It's funny because I've preached often about how okay it is to be angry with God, how He can take it, and how when you enter into that argument with Him you open yourself up to the opportunity to be changed, to be enlightened to His purposes, and yet, I found myself ashamed of my anger; I thought it wasn't my place to be angry with God, He obviously had a purpose. So I tried to cover my anger, to conceal it, which is just pure foolishness. God of course can see my heart and hear my thoughts; He knew I was angry, and He was waiting patiently for me to tell Him so we could engage in a conversation about my frustrations. This morning in the car I finally owned up to my anger; I was honest with myself and God about my disappointments and heartache and anger. And it is no surprise that He heard me out, He let me speak my peace, but then of course He slammed me with truth. (This post will just serve as a reminder that when you get into an argument with God, you should prepare to lose, knowing that it will eventually lead to you winning, but in the moment you will feel like you've lost.)

It turns out that the solution to my anger is gratitude, an ability to be grateful for what He has given me, the blessings He has bestowed on me. This truth hurt because it revealed my heart, my unwillingness to be grateful. I've grown comfortable in my "woe is me" mentality, and believe me there is plenty to bemoan, but my groanings have left little room for my praise. I'm reminded of the song "Held" in which "this hand is bitterness, we want to taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrows." The bitterness I was so careful to avoid when losing Hope has crept its way into my heart in these last weeks. I allowed my sadness to turn to bitterness, hatred for my situation and the pain it brought with it. No wonder I found myself angry.

I think in large part my anger and bitterness can be attributed to my loss of hope in these last weeks. When the doctor told us to wait, I felt as if she told us there would be no hope for months on end. Without hope, without the anticipation of what could be, there is only sadness and bitterness. But the truth this, there is hope, it is just not the kind I'm looking for or necessarily wanting in my earthly self. There is hope that God will work His purposes, there is hope that God has a greater plan in mind, there is hope that God will bless me in the midst, there is hope of salvation that will reunite me with my babies someday. There is hope, it is just far less tangible than a child.

When we lost Hope, I asked people to come and visit me so that I would be reminded of the blessings I do have as opposed to focusing on the blessing I lost. I have failed to have that mindset in these past weeks; I have failed to focus on my blessings and have grown bitter and angry instead. So I do believe that it is time to be grateful, to show gratitude, to focus on my blessings.

I was reading the Psalms tonight and stumbled on Psalm 109. It begins with David's frustrated cry to God "O God of my praise, Do not be silent!" He goes on to frustratedly list the trials he is facing and the ways in which he is oppressed. But then he ends the Psalm with this "With my mouth I will give thanks abundantly to the Lord; and in the midst of many I will praise Him. For He stands at the right hand of the needy, to save him from those who judge his soul" (Psalm 109:30-31). David's response to his anger and frustration with the Lord is to give thanks, and as I am trying to follow his authentic example I hope to do the same.

I will offer praise for my blessings, I will seek to identify my blessings, my starfish, in my days. And yet I know that there is still a large struggle ahead of me. Because of where I am in my life I will continue to be inundated with the blessings of others, specifically in the area of children. It is so difficult for us as fallible humans to avoid comparison, to not hold what we have up to the mirror of what others have. I find it ironic that I am not usually one to do this with material goods, but I cannot step away from it in this realm. All I can do is pray that God helps me endure the absence of this blessing in my life, that He comforts me as my heart aches with its absence, that He protects my heart from growing bitter out of this anguish. And I have to pray because quite honestly I'm not sure that enduring this is something I can humanly do; I believe it must be something Someone greater than me must accomplish. But I can hope that if I seek to have a grateful attitude, God will not fail to help me along in this area of weakness.

So feel free to ask me how I'm blessed each day, and don't be afraid to make me stand there until I can tell you! Because I am blessed and I need to make a point to remember that truth, lest I find myself bitter and angry again. Thus "With my mouth I will give thanks abundantly to the Lord"!

Dwelling

One thing I have asked from the LORD, that I shall seek:
That I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life,
To behold the beauty of the LORD
And to meditate in His temple.
For in the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle;
In the secret place of His tent He will hide me;
He will lift me up on a rock.
And now my head will be lifted up above my enemies around me,
And I will offer in His tent sacrifices with shouts of joy;
I will sing, yes, I will sing praises to the LORD.
Psalm 27:4-6

I was standing in church tonight renewing my commitment to walk with the Lord, standing with my fellow believers vowing to God that I am willing to do what He asks of me, willing to let go of myself and hang on to His calling. As I spoke aloud my allegiance to my God, He brought a verse to my heart, Psalm 27:4, specifically the words "that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life." I have loved this verse for a very long time; the idea of sanctuary it conjures for me is majestic and comforting. But tonight new words jumped out of this verse into my heart--all the days of my life. Not just the good days, not just the awful days, all of my days. I get to dwell with God all of my days--the days when I am angry with Him, the days I am disappointed in this seemingly unclear plan, the days where my heart aches so much I cannot breathe. All of my days I am invited to dwell, to dwell with Him.

After this revelation I searched back through scripture for the verse and found the context. Not only do I get to dwell with Him, He will hide me in His most secret place, especially in those days of trouble. God does not look at me, broken, weary, frustrated, sad me and ask me to leave, instead in those moments He invites me deeper, further into dwelling with Him. He escorts me past the palace guards, past the throngs of people begging for moments of His time, into His most secret, His most intimate of places and just allows me to be, allows me to hide from the world that is so torturing me. I am invited to dwell, just to be, with Him, even and especially in my most broken of moments. It is no wonder that in the Lord's house we are able to behold His beauty--how can it be anything but beautiful to have someone love you and invite you deeper into His world in your most bedraggled of states?

So this is one thing that I will ask and seek: that I may dwell, dwell with Him, in His most secret of places, where He invites me to go. And then "surely goodness and lovingkindness shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever" (Psalm 23:6).

Intentional Living

This sucks. It is total crap. There are very few things about our situation that I don't hate. But this is my bummer of a life, I've only been given one. These days, these moments are mine and once they are gone they cannot be recaptured. So no matter how awful my circumstances may be at the moment, no matter how steeped in anguish these next few months might be, I want to live my life.

I do not want to look back and see these few months wasted in waiting for something that I cannot have at the moment. I do not want to trudge through these days wishing them away. These are my days, my months, or rather God's days and God's months, and I want them to have meaning, to have purpose. After all Jesus came that I may have life and have it abundantly (John 10:10).

So how do I find this abundant life amidst what feels like a hole of sorrow? One thought I have is that "whoever loses his life for My sake will find it" (Matthew 16:25). I should let go of what I've been holding on to in search of something greater. I don't know exactly what this something greater is. I do not know what specifically can fill my days with purpose. I KNOW for certain that getting up daily and following the Lord is my purpose and He is what motivates this desire of mine to live intentionally.

But what can I DO with my days to live intentionally? How can I make these months memorable for something other than the painful waiting that is upon me? How can I live out the greatest commandments: "'And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.' The second is this, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself' There is no other commandment greater than these" (Mark 12:30-31)?

What ideas do you have? I'd love to hear them!

I know intentional living should stretch far beyond these three months, every day of our lives should be intentional, purposeful. So I am looking at this as the beginning of a journey to purposeful living, the first planks in a bridge to an intentional walk with Jesus. These next months are about my pruning, about God working, about opportunity for God to work in my heart. I do not want to be closed off to His purposes but rather open to His work, moldable and teachable. Thus I want to seek to live with purpose, with intention.

How can I practically live with purpose? I look forward to your thoughts on intentional living.

An Honest Heart

How long, O LORD? Will You forget me forever?
How long will You hide Your face from me?

How long shall I take counsel in my soul,
Having sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long will my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O LORD my God;
Enlighten my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,

And my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
And my adversaries will rejoice when I am shaken.

But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness;
My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation.

I will sing to the LORD,
Because He has dealt bountifully with me.
Psalm 13: 1-6

One of the things I love about David is his honest heart. There is no sugar coating his emotions, there is no desire on his part to hide his struggles with God. But perhaps the most amazing thing about David is that he always arrives back at truth. This post is dedicated to David because I will bear my honest heart, yet I will remember God's words to me.

This Psalm above has been resonating in my heart the last 24 hours. How long O Lord? Yesterday the doctor suggested that we cease trying to conceive for a while until my body heals appropriately. The time frame she gave us, only a matter of months, feels like an eternity. My heart is screaming out that I have waited on the Lord long enough. Haven't Herb and I waited plenty? We were married almost seven years ago and we patiently waited for me to finish college, for Herb to finish law school, for us to find a house, for Herb to find a job. We've waited, we've waited plenty, and yet now we are being asked to wait some more. And so I cry out "How long O Lord" must we wait for your purposes to be accomplished? "How long O Lord" must we suffer for your glory? "How long O Lord" must we watch you fulfill your promises for others while we wait for you to fulfill your promises to us? How long?

I am aching so deeply that I am even struggling for words. I feel roadblocks where I feel like God should be throwing up green lights. I can barely breathe through the anguish of another lost piece of my hope. I sob as I imagine more time passing without children in our home. I ache as I think about how many months even after we try again it might take to conceive, and my stomach turns knowing that God could bring even more miscarriages in our future. I am saddened that this process, the one that is supposed to be so beautiful and breathtaking, has become so tortured and anguished. There are so many unknowns, so much out of my control.

And yet I am reminded of my God...my God who provided Abraham with a son who was to bring forth a great nation, even when it appeared Abraham could have no children at all. God promised it and so Abraham believed. "In hope against hope he believed, in order that he might become a father of many nations, according to that which had been spoken, 'So shall your descendants be.' And yet without becoming weak in faith he contemplated his own body, now as good as dead since he was about a hundred years old, and the deadness of Sarah's womb; yet with respect to the promise of God, he did not waver in unbelief, but grew strong in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully assured that what He had promised, He was able also to perform" (Romans 4:18-21). I can imagine the incredulity that Abraham experienced--I know first hand the doubt that God will bring you a child. I can see that as the years passed Abraham questioned "How long O Lord" before You provide a child? But God did provide for Abraham as He had promised because Abraham did not move from his belief; he instead gave glory to God and walked assuredly in God's promise.

I am also reminded of my God...my God who in the last moments before Abraham was to take Isaac's life, the very life God had promised him, spared Abraham's son and provided a different sacrifice. I can imagine that as Abraham was walking with Isaac to the place of sacrifice he was anguished at what the Lord was doing. I can imagine that He internally battled the whole march there asking "How long O Lord" must he suffer at the hands of obedience. But in those last moments, God did provide. "And Abraham called the name of that place The Lord Will Provide, as it is said to this day, 'In the mount of the Lord it will be provided'" (Genesis 22:14).

I have begun to recognize that God doesn't get much glory in the ease of our lives. It is not in the moments of peace and tranquility that people are in greatest awe of the way God works. It is in the sorrow, in the anguish. It is in the moments when Mary and Martha are questioning why Jesus did not come sooner to spare Lazurus that we see the heart of Jesus as He wept. It is also in those moments that follow, in the moments that seemed like they were too late, that Jesus resurrected Lazurus and brought so much glory and renown to His name.

Jesus doesn't work on our time frame, ever. There may be times that He appears to, but it really is about His glory. I'm not really sure what His time frame is for us to conceive, to actually carry a child to full term, and then miraculously to welcome that child into our lives. I know that I am not particularly fond of what seems to be His time frame right now and that I will continue to ask "How long O Lord". But I am blessed enough to know that my God does have a time frame and He will provide, even if at the last moment or when it seems like He is too late.

In the meantime, I will still despair over what seems to be lost, over what seems to be an unjust time frame, because I think that is real and honest. David was unafraid to ask God "How long O Lord?" and I will not fear that either. Yet I will do so knowing that I live in the Hope of a God who provides, a God who will show Himself in His perfect timing.

Peace that surpasses understanding

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Phillipians 4:6-7

These last few days I've been at peace, not striving, not anxious, just at peace. The doubts I have had over the last few months about not ever being a mom have been quelled. I have been saying to others that I'm not sure if it is a peace that God will eventually grant me the gift of being a mom or if it is a peace that God is going to do whatever He sees fit for my life, it is just an undefined peace. My friend Lori said that maybe I've just been granted a "peace that surpasses all understanding." God has granted me peace, peace that I can't explain or comprehend, peace that doesn't make sense despite my circumstances. This peace seems fitting because I know many have been covering me with prayers for that exact thing--they have laid their requests before God on my behalf. And I have found myself in the middle of answered prayers, in the center of unexplainable peace. I love to see how prayer and scripture move in my life, and I am grateful for the ways God has allowed them to move in my life. I am thankful for the peace which surpasses understanding because without it I'm not sure how I would get through each of these days.

Something's Changed

I had a few hours today to just be, by myself, outside, just me and God. I brought my devotional and my Bible and sat outside with my Creator. I read scripture and prayed and praised. This last word is an indication of how my heart has been changed.

There are marked differences between losing Joseph and losing Hope. There were different expectations, different lengths of time, different emotions altogether. But the most evident difference is in my heart; I am not the same woman I was 5 months ago.

As I sat with Jesus today, talking, sharing my heart, I had a new peace, an ability to be thankful. I could rest in His purposes, I could trust in His goodness in a far deeper and richer way than I was able to before. I did not need to question why, instead I just knew there was a reason and that God was working on it and through it and in me. I found myself not having to try to be thankful, but just being thankful--thankful for my Father who loves me, my Holy Spirit who comforts me, and the Son who walks alongside me.

Then I went to my counseling appointment and my counselor reminded me of a quote we talked about almost a year ago by Eugene Peterson:

"The assumption of spirituality is that always God is doing something before I know it. So the task is not to get God to do something I think needs to be done, but to become aware of what God is doing so that I can respond to it and participate and take delight in it."

My counselor asked me to focus on that last portion, taking delight in what God is doing. How do we take delight in such horrible occurrences? How do we delight in what God is doing when it causes so much pain?

So I asked, can we feel both sorrow for our circumstances and yet delight in what God will do in and through them? I think, and my counselor thinks, yes, we can. We can experience great sorrow as we grieve and yet find joy in the knowledge that God is doing something, something good, always. Even in the bad, God is working good, and we get to participate in it and take delight in it. And so somehow tonight, I have some joy, amidst my tears and my brokenness, I have some joy.

I truly believe God has a purpose for Hope's life, for Joseph's life; He is creating something beautiful. And do you know how I know? Do you know how I can believe in God's purpose and beauty? Because something has changed in my heart, I am not the same; there is new beauty in my heart as a result of Hope and of Joseph. His purpose for my heart was partially fulfilled as a result of these losses. This is how I can find peace, find joy, amidst my unspeakable sorrow. This is how I am changed.

Baby Number 2

Herb and I lost Baby number 2 yesterday morning. Just one week ago, last Saturday, I took a pregnancy test and found out we were pregnant! I had early symptoms, but we weren't sure until last Saturday. Of course we were excited, and scared; Herb prayed over me and the baby and this time there were bittersweet tears as we remembered Hope and looked forward to this new baby. I was so hesitant to believe that this baby was coming, that he would be here. He was to be due on November 11th, just one day after Hope's birthday and I couldn't help marvel at God's timing. It, of course, did not escape His notice that this baby was due so near my first. I believed so clearly that God had a purpose for this baby. My first prayers over him were so different than my first prayers over Hope. These prayers were for this baby to be for God's glory; I recognized so clearly that God was in control of this baby and this pregnancy. That knowledge allowed me to begin to rest in God's plan.

We headed to Disneyland on Thursday, and Friday I was so happy, I was so at peace. I was able to enjoy those rides I could ride and meander through shops as Herb, Tedd and Lori rode the rides I couldn't. I was able again to dream of bringing our child there, this child there; I was able to see pregnant women and imagine that I might get to have that experience. I smiled and laughed during the fireworks. I ate yummy food to appease my hungry baby. I enjoyed wearing my "I'm Celebrating" button, and answering that we were expecting when Cast Members asked what we were celebrating. I was so excited, so at peace.

I awoke Saturday morning early to pee, again, and eat, and as I was lying there in bed I kept thinking how amazing it was that my perspective had so changed. The symptoms that once nagged me, I was now thankful for; I was thankful for them because they meant the baby was growing inside me. Again I prayed for the amazing purpose this baby would serve.

A few hours later I got up to use the restroom and shower for our next day at Disneyland, and I saw that I had started spotting. I called Herb in and he prayed, he told God that he wasn't sure our hearts could handle another miscarriage. He asked for healing. I called the doctor, but unfortunately my doctor wasn't on call. So I spoke to the on-call doctor and he told me it could be a number of things, but that we wouldn't be able to do any tests until Monday. He said as long as there wasn't cramping or tissue loss, things were fine, just take it easy and rest.

Shortly after that the cramping began and about an hour later I passed the baby. It was gruesome and horrible, and all I could do was sob. Losing this child was horrifying, horrifying in a different way than losing Hope was. There's nothing official about sitting in a hotel room having a miscarriage; there are no trappings of a hospital to validate your loss; there are no nurses to talk you through what is happening; there's just the knowledge that your world is crashing all around you. My loss of hope was familiar and my grief also well-known. In some ways I knew what gamut of emotions to expect. But this loss was also less public; very few people knew I was pregnant. I was grieving but no one else would know why. That was more horrible, the feeling that I had to try and hide my sadness.

I spent the day curled up in pain and sorrow on a hotel bed. Herb is at such a loss for words as he watches me suffer again and suffers so deeply himself. There just aren't any words left.

I decided that this baby needed a name; he was a real and valuable life to me and I needed to be able to recognize him as such. Even at only 5 and half weeks he had become part of our lives, part of our dreams. I have referred to him as a boy because I thought he was, unlike Hope we'll never know for sure. But I had spent most of the week thinking about Joseph, the way in which he believed and trusted God's purposes even when it looked as if nothing good could come of his situation, the way he never became bitter but with each step accepted God's desires for him. I was thinking so much about Joseph, and I love the name, so this baby, our second child, is Joseph. He will continue to represent our softened hearts towards God's purposes for our lives.

This morning I was just so overwhelmed with grief and it hit me: I am now grieving the loss of two children at the same time. How do I do this? How can I possibly withstand this much sadness all at once? What foolishness led me to believe that I could handle even the possibility of another loss? And I know, I know I trusted God with the timing of another pregnancy. I know that His timing, and this baby are a part of his plan, but I'm just not sure how to stand through the pain of this plan. I'm grieving Hope, I'm grieving Joseph and my heart is shattered into a million pieces.

I also know this: my God is good, I am under His loving protection, I asked God to use Joseph's life for His purposes, God has promised me many great things, God keeps His promises. As I ache, I do know these things, I know them with my head, now someone just needs to remind my heart.

I am asking for prayer, prayer as we grieve again. Prayer as we miss, and long and hope and dream. Prayer for continued and renewed hope. Prayer for peace in God's purposes. Prayer for God to come and hold Herb's heart and hold my heart. Prayer that we would continue to trust in God's goodness. Please just cover us, we need it.

This post is in memory of my little one Joseph Garcia.

Should Have

These past months I have found myself thinking "This week I should have..." Thoughts of the baby showers I "should have" had, or the baby's room I "should have" set up, or the belly I "should have" been sporting flood my mind on a regular basis. But I have been thinking about the phrase "should have"; it implies what was supposed to be. In other words, the words "should have" reflect a plan gone awry. In many ways, they are fitting. Our dreams and plans for Hope were taken away. What was "supposed to be" no longer is. I have been working diligently to replace my "should haves" to "would haves" because I am beginning to recognize that having Hope come April 7th was not what was "supposed to be."

This is hard to say and difficult to swallow, especially if you struggle to believe in God's plans. It is hard to admit that having Hope in our daily lives is not what God intended for us. It is hard to understand that having Hope here on earth was not God's greater purpose for her existence. But the truth is that Hope is exactly where she is "supposed to be". She shouldn't be coming to greet us on April 7th because she was meant to greet her Heavenly Father on November 10th. There is no "should have" for her life or for ours because we are living exactly in the middle of God's purposes for us.

While it is true that this month we "would have" been preparing for little Hope to arrive, we instead are walking with a deeper faith than we once had 4 months ago. Though we "would have" been waiting with great anticipation to meet our precious girl and see her smiling face, we now wait with greater anticipation of the day we arrive in Heaven and get to embrace her for the first time. And even though we "would have" loved having her physically near, we are overjoyed by the precious presence she has left behind in her wake, the unspeakable impact we see in her short little life.

I will still have those "should have" thoughts, they will creep in ever so slowly as a walk through every difficult day of this next month. But instead of being grieved over what "should have" been, I will smile with sweet sorrow over what is and what will be. I, of course, would love to have her here with me, but I know that she is exactly where she "should" be, in the embrace of her loving Heavenly Father.