In music, a grace note is a note that is held for a brief moment...barely touched on the piano. "Grace Notes" seems like a fitting name for this blog. Our lives changed when I carried our daughter, Grace, for 9 months only to hold her (in my earthly opinion) for a brief moment. She lives in heaven with her Savior. If only that comfort, that sure hope we have, would take away the pain of missing her.

"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things." Ecclesiastes 11:5

We are always thankful for Grace.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Feels Like...

Moments after Grace's birth...when I was in my own hospital room alone, even before Bob came back from the NICU to tell me that he named our daughter...I began to feel as though I was being punished for something I did. I think that this might be part of the reason that I couldn't call anyone to tell them that we had another daughter. After all, Bob already told me that she was going to die, and with the history of how my family dealt with “things” (Unheard of Decisions post), what would their reaction be? I was already afraid that once I told them, they'd quietly say, “OK...Well,we won't tell anyone. We'll act like this didn't happen.”

Wow! I finally said that “out loud”! I'm certain that no one actually thinks this way, but my mind was going so many different directions in those early moments, days, months, and even today. I began to assume what others would say or how they would react even before they knew about Grace. I don't want to blame this all on my childhood, but I do believe that it had/has a lot to do with how I dealt/deal with things.

This morning in my “quiet time” reading, I came to a passage that reassured me that we are not being punished for something that we did. I absolutely know that God doesn't punish us for our sins...that Jesus already wiped our slate clean when he suffered and died...but there are moments when I need to be reminded. There are moments when the pain of missing the life we imagined sharing with Grace is so bad that it feels like a punishment...it feels like anything but love.

In John 9:3, Jesus responds to the disciples when they asked why a man was born blind. They wondered who had sinned, the blind man or his parents. “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.”

At times, I try to look for the purpose in all of this...even in the sufferings of others. I want to find the answers to the questions. I want to be able to say, “Oh, that's why this happened.” I've also learned that we may never know what God's purpose is in allowing pain and sorrow into our lives. What I do know is that He is refining my faith. I remember six words my Godmother wrote in a card shortly after Grace died. She said, “Someday all will be made clear.” On that day, when we see Jesus face-to-face, I don't think that any of this will even matter. We will be experiencing true peace and joy with our Savior for eternity.

I'm pretty sure that most would say that my response to suffering hasn't been very God-pleasing. (Again...I'm assuming what others think.) At times, my silence might be mistaken for anger and jealousy. I'll be the first to admit that I've had those feelings and still do today...not all of the time, but they creep in. I am constantly processing things, learning how to react to well-meaning yet insensitive comments. The most common reaction that I continue to struggle with is the silence. The silence has been deafening.

I'm going to quote Nancy Guthrie who wrote “The One Year Book of Hope”. Nancy validates so many of my feelings. In the devotion “Displaying the Glory of God,” she says, “Instead of demanding that God explain himself and his purpose, you can decide to trust him, recognizing that your circumstances provide an unparalleled opportunity to glorify God just by trusting his purpose, even when you can't see his purpose.”

One of my favorite Bible passages comes from Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." This passage reassures me that God is in control. I don't need to try to find the answers...I only need to continue to trust.

What a privilege we have been given! It certainly feels like anything but a privilege. This definitely is not a punishment!

“...No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9
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Some might think that we've fallen off the face of the earth. I don't remember ever being good at keeping in touch with others. Calling, writing, or sending cards hasn't been my strongest point. We've felt it was necessary to stay hidden behind our hill the last 2 years. It's how we have been able to survive...to somehow keep going when our summer plans drastically changed in May '10. Bob has always had the God-given knack for building things. He amazes us with his talent. I've built plenty of walls inside of myself without a hammer and nails...walls that need to come down. The only way I feel that I can do that is by writing. My mind goes blank when I try to talk...so many thoughts and no way of putting those thoughts into words except on paper.

Grief is such an unpredictable roller coaster ride of emotions. Everyone means well...we know that. We all want to say or do the right thing...some do, some don't. Some aren't able to overcome the awkwardness of being around someone whose baby died. We make others too sad, so it's just easier for them to stay away...easier for them. The subject is avoided and that has been more devastating for me than watching Grace die in my arms. Again...everyone means well. In the past, I've avoided others using the same poor excuses we have often heard, "I didn't want to upset you," "I don't want to make you cry," I didn't know what to say." Pretending it didn't happen doesn't work. Acknowledgement means everything. Seeing silent tears from a friend standing off to the side meant more to me than listening to the thoughtless chatter of someone who felt it was better to say something rather than nothing. That probably doesn't make sense, but many things on this earth don't.

Nothing I say is meant to hurt or blame anyone. I don't talk much about our daughters who we get to share our lives with. They are not my struggle. Life after Grace is, at times. I don't talk much about the loving support we have received either. I need to talk about the things that cloud my head...the things that keep the walls up. This isn't about me or anyone else. It's about how I can glorify God through this.

We no longer try to wrap our minds around God's plans for us. We just trust Him...and it's not easy. Our faith continues to be refined every day. For that, we are thankful.

What I share here will be difficult. I don't open myself up to many. I'm too afraid of what others will say or won't say. Maybe this will give others a better understanding of what goes on inside my head. If you think you've figured me out, please let me know, because I'm still trying to understand me.

As I just said, I want to glorify God through this. I want others to see that side of me. Some do and many don't. I continue to have a difficult time rejoicing on the outside, but I do. I have joy and peace but it is no longer the unquenchable joy and peace we long to find here on earth. My joy is found in the sure hope of heaven...the sure hope of seeing our loved ones again as we continue to miss them. It's difficult surviving someone that we imagined sharing our lives with. Thankfully, Grace shared her entire life with us, and we know without a doubt, that she lives in heaven with her Savior.