Sometimes it feels as if grief walks on its tiptoes, creeping up behind you until its too late & all at once you’re engulfed in a sea of sorrow. Its so weighty, but the initial pitter patter sound can fool us all.
Mother’s day was like that for me.
I woke up to my little one rushing into my bedroom, wrapping his tiny arms around my legs, wishing me happy birthday as his father yells from the other room, “Mother’s day, bud. Not birthday.”
It was sweet & memorable & gentle. & I was a little tense but couldn’t figure out why, brushing it off as the Sunday morning rush.
Next thing you know my sister wished me happy mother’s day to the mama of three, & that was when it all flooded forward. Mama of five when you count my babies with Jesus, I gently chimed in.
& that was that, & next thing you know, the Sunday worship set list begins & I cannot stop missing my two I never knew. Imagining the ruckus they’re causing. Imagining the people they’ve grown to love in God’s town.
I knew them enough to miss them.
Sometimes its that simple.
So as I washed the make up off my face, God whispered a newfound truth into my heart, pouring into me through the words to the second song.
You haven’t failed me yet.
I knew it, but I didn’t. I knew he was faithful. I proclaimed it in the midst of the storm, as I laid in the hospital bed wondering how to pick up the pieces. In the car ride home when I prayed for a miracle in between tests. The first time when the hospital sent me to get my lab results & I had to decipher the numbers & tell my mother the dropped numbers meant baby one was gone, & the second time when I was laying on the couch at my mother’s & my husband called to break the news. I knew he was faithful by his comfort. But I didn’t connect his faithfulness with the truth that even when my babies were returned to their keeper, God hadn’t failed me.
He hasn’t failed me yet. Through the loss & grief, he is still on his throne being good to those who love him. & because I’ve never stopped loving him, I can say with a pure heart that though I don’t understand why he did what he did or does what he does, in those moments, God was still good to me. He was there, not failing me.
So today I’m thankful for a God who sometimes lets us assist in raising our babies, & sometimes wants to raise them himself. I’m thankful for the miracle of motherhood & the faithfulness of the Father through it all. He’s never failing.
It’s your turn, love. Break the silence. Spill your guts.