I’ll never forget the day we buried our child, right here in the mountains, right here in the wild.
Grief hits like a wave and sinks down to my bones, I continue to release all the moans and the groans.
I cry, “Abba, Father! Why do I keep bleeding? This isn’t fair and you’re the One we’ll be needing! It feels like you’re far, why aren’t you here?”
His voice like a whisper, “Come close, I am near…
I’m the Lion of Judah here to sit with you in the pain. I’ll bring you understanding to help break off these chains.
From glory to glory each month you will see how I’ll carry you through in this desperate time of need.
I haven’t forgotten what you fervently asked for, the plan for your family is plenty & more.”
With anger & rage I shout back at Him and say, “Why did you have to take them away?”
His answer came fast like the waves of grief do, “I did not take them, that’s not true. Let go of the lies and the tricks and the fears. Let’s have a chat, sit down I am here.”
I listen in close, but then scream and yell, blaming everything on Him for what seems like hell.
He says to me softly, “I see that you’re sad, heavy and distraught, but I am who I am and the price has been bought. Sin & death don’t come from me, I long for my people to be set free.
Here & not now is a hard place to sit. You’ll see them one day, have hope and don’t quit.
I know that it’s not fair to bury your babies, I know your mind is filled with doubts and maybes.
For now, remember that Selah taught you to rest, pausing in my presence was always the best. Remember Shalom and the word I gave you, my peace was all you had in the 12 weeks you felt blue.
Remember what I said when you saw baby on the screen, keep hope alive and choose me when you lean.”
As He finished speaking, I quietly looked up. With tears running down my face, I felt He’d filled my cup.
But, how do I move on from losing two babies in a row? How do I have peace when I don’t even know?
People keep saying, you’ll get your rainbow baby! At least you can get pregnant, stop questioning the maybes.
That hurts because I lost them, people don’t understand. I miss them, they’re real and I wish I could hold their hands.
As I think this He says, “Take care of yourself, go on and don’t rush. Our culture is so fixed on keeping these things hushed.
You’ll need to take all the time that you need, healing will come and someday you’ll be freed.
My body & mind are weary and weak, there’s really One person who I know to seek.
Still, grief hits like a wave and sinks down to my bones, I continue to release all the moans and the groans.