Let Me Tell You a Story

 I’ve struggled with the when, what, and why of another blog post. What does one write after losing their baby? I can’t even find the right words for what happened to her. I didn’t lose her. I know exactly where she’s at and with whom. She passed away? That seems too gentle. She died? It seems so cold. I suppose the truth of the matter is she's actually really living, more than any of us. But I miss her...excruciatingly so. 

This morning I read Psalm 105. “Give thanks to the Lord. Call on his name, make known among the nations what he has done. Sing to him. Sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts. Glory in his holy name; let the heart of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Look to the Lord and his strength: seek his face always.” (1-4) 

It became clear. This is where I need to start. In our darkest hour I need you to know that this darkness, this tragedy doesn’t negate all the wondrous works of God. So, I want to share with you a glimmer of “the wonderful acts” of my loving God. He has proven himself faithful time and again. He is always faithful. This I know.  

This is a story of God’s work and mercy in my life: then and now. Herein lies an example of his relentlessly loving pursuit. 

Broken.  Hurt. Rejected. Depressed. Hopeless. Suicidal. Confused. Self-loathing. Selfish. 

These all described me for a period of some very dark years. But the beautiful (miraculous, really) thing is I barely recognize that girl anymore. 

He has made what was broken, whole. He has loved me, accepted me: when I and others did not. He has changed me, put a song in my heart. He has replaced hurt and hopelessness with joy, peace, and a hope for all time. He has given me life. He has made a dead heart alive again. He has shown me the value of life, mine included. He has given me purpose. He has made and continues to make my heart new. 

God: the creator of all things, including you and me. God: who is intentional in all he does, all he allows even. God: who is perfect, without any wrong and with all power and authority sees me, sees you. He IS love. As the creator of mankind he lovingly pursues us in spite of all our wrong-doing, rebellion, or disregard. But, our wrong-doing, this inability to be perfectly good separates us from him. It creates a chasm between us and him. In his perfection, love, and justice  he cannot accept or be in relationship with anything less than perfection or perfect purity. Wrongs demand to be righted. There is a cost. And in his deep love and mercy toward humanity he sent his son, Jesus, to pay for and suffer the consequences that are rightly ours so we could be in relationship with God himself- for his name’s sake. That price? Death. Jesus paid it. 

But… death was defeated when Jesus walked out of that tomb. Death does not get the final say. (In this present suffering, I am ever so grateful for this fact.) The ultimate price has been paid for me, for you. So, how will we respond to that? 

For many years I knew and accepted that gift with my mind, with my words. But when I allowed it to penetrate my heart? That made all the difference. 

He is hope. He is love. He is truth. He is alive! He sees me. He sees you. He holds my baby girl. 

The miracle? Even as imperfect as we are: he wants us. He wants you. He sees what Jesus did, applied it to us, and he calls us his own. 

I’m his. I rejoice in that. I will sing his praises to you. I call on his name day after day. Minute by minute. I seek his face always. I can do nothing else. 

My flesh is weak. In our grief my flesh cries out and oceans could be filled with our tears. His strength. It’s what carries us from breath to breath, day to day. We grieve.  Oh, how we grieve. But we grieve with hope  

My story is nothing. Let me tell you the story of Jesus.