I’ve been writing this post in my head for weeks now. It’s kept me from writing some of the more mundane happenings of our household. Sometimes I’m just afraid that my words won’t adequately portray my feelings. Or they’ll just make something profound sound plain silly. But I have to write.
So write I will.
A few months ago, Peter and I received an invitation from the Hospital where Annie died. It was for a Memorial Service they hold each year for parents of babies and children. It was not the first service they’ve held since she’s died, but for whatever reason, we’d turned down the rest. This time, though, we decided we should give it a go. So we sent in the RSVP and tried not to think about it any more.
I didn’t realize until the night before the service that there was a bit of significance to the date. I changed Eliza’s diaper and sang to her as I got ready to put her in her bed. And I counted the days. I clutched her a little tighter when I realized we’d be taking our new baby to the hospital for a Memorial on the day we had taken her Sister to the hospital where she would eventually die. (I know, it’s a little confusing. Stick with me.) We found out Annie had a brain tumor when she was six months and nine days old. We took Eliza to Annie’s Memorial service when she was six months and nine days old. For some reason, the knowledge of those similar ages heightened my sensitivity to my surroundings.
Friends, the past twenty-one months have held a lifetime of pain for me. But they have also held a lifetime of joy. And I discovered the most beautiful, meaningful truth as I sat in that service.
Jesus heals.
I sat there, surrounded by hurting, grieving people. I sat there and listened to meaningless words and meaningless songs. Not once did I hear the name Jesus uttered. In that service, as I watched and listened and prayed, I saw how the world grieves. I didn’t like it.
We will not heal without Jesus. He alone can work in us and through us to bring Joy into our mourning. Without Him, we are still broken.
I still hesitate to share this because I’m not sure my written words portray how deeply this penetrated my heart.
When I listen to a song about rainbows, it is nice. It’s sad. But it doesn’t heal.
When I read a poem about death, I resonate with it. But it doesn’t restore me.
But when I read my Bible? When I sit and pour my heart out to Christ?
I am healed.
I am restored.
There are no words like Christ’s words. The truth of His Words bring me comfort and power and perspective. I am not left with a wistful, sentimental feeling. I am changed and renewed.
On that day, as I held my sweet Eliza, longing for the touch of my Annie-girl, I felt like Jesus lifted the fog of my life a bit. He showed me my pain. And He showed me His grace on this journey I’ve been on. I saw His presence in my life and the way He has gently held me in His arms.
He heals us.
He is healing me.
He will heal you.
I’m the first to admit that I haven’t “arrived”. I struggle with the weight of my grief daily. I feel clumsy with my words and feelings a lot of the time. But I pray my life will be one that shows joy and grace because of the restoration Jesus has brought to me.
From head to toe, I’ll bless his holy name!
i love you.
That, my dear friend, resonated deep in my soul. Thank you for putting it into words.
He is the only one.
Love you muchly,
Neile
Bless you for sharing for the truth that you are living. Thank you for being vulnerable enough to share more than catch phrases. I pray that as you continue to heal you will continue to see opportunities to share this truth with others.
Oh Sweet Sarah,
"You might just think you have nothing to share until you are whole and well and put together. We may admire your wholeness, but we can touch your brokenness."
You have so much to offer. I have felt this way since I met you. (I was praying Peter would win your heart for I knew he would be his best with you by his side). Don't ever think that God is not using you in mighty ways . . . He is! For your good and His glory.
Once again, I find myself so thankful you're my friend.
As we say in my family,
"Love you a whole bunch and five!"
Lisa
My little guest asked me the other day, "can you heal without God?" I think I'll pass this post of yours on to her. It seems to answer the question!
Another one of those "Bittersweet" times. Thanks so much of sharing your thoughts at the perfect timing. Thanks too for sharing the gift God has blessed you with- writing those experiences that He walks with you through and showing you what to do with them.
Anticipate!
It's better than hanging around with the uglies of the past.
Oh, if they only knew what strength they could find in the arms of Jesus. You touched my heart tonight!
Sarah, You do not know me, but I am a Christian and I just ran across yours and your husbands bloggs this evening. I was really touched by what you had written about losing your little one. It is amazing at the grace of God that he gives us to get through the hardest times even when we feel we cannot even get out of the bed. Even in your pain he blessed you with another child, and I know that doesn't replace the one you lost. But I was just amazed to see what you had written and it's so encouraging to me because my husband and I have been trying for a child and I have been discouraged and strengthened at times. I know we serve a faithful God. Thank you for being open and sharing. I don't know if you have heard the song "Held" By Natalie Grant, but you should listen to it…. it's amazing and the lyrics just talk about how we are held when everything seems lost or taken away but we survive through his grace. God Bless you and your family <3