Hope persists despite the tumultuous storms of miscarriage and madness

Losing my second “promised” child shook me to my core. It wasn’t my faith or belief in God that was shaken, but my perspective on life and what I pursue. 

It showed me truth upon painful truth, challenging every way I have followed the Lord. As long as I can remember, I have held on by looking forward to something. Never once have I been able to live in the present moment.  My mind was always a chaotic storm of bursting ideas, feelings, and plans. I struggled to commit to one thing for long or find lasting satisfaction in the current moment. 

That has always been too big a mystery for me to grasp. All this coupled with great impatience has led me to live a very frenzied life. Nothing has held value or meaning for long, and everything was in a constant state of coming undone. And now that is what I am:  undone.  I have always considered my passion for everything an asset, but it has also been my undoing. My passion has burned through all my ideas, assumptions, and dreams, leaving me with cold reality. The Lord has opened my eyes through this time of loss to see this truth that I have lived with and used as a coping mechanism for so long.

I felt so sure He gave me all four of my children, but two have died. I felt so sure He wanted me to be a speaker, but not one opportunity has ever opened up, and everything I have tried to make happen has been shut down. I was so sure He would redeem me at my last church which I had faithfully attended for years in spite of the great and endless hostility towards me there, but He didn’t. I felt so sure I would find a place, get this, have that, but His answer has consistently been NO.

No to every promise He Himself has made me, no despite my constant worship and following in obedience to Him.  With the loss of our second child, so many questions arose as Jesus had spared our precious one once before when “she” was on the verge of death only to take her home anyway (there was some positive progress in the weeks leading up to what ultimately was a miscarriage). I desperately clung to the hope that He would give “her” back, only to find out that His mind would not be changed.

 Before this, I was never in a position to realize (remember this, I will come back to it.) how much I focus on all I have done to be faithful and how I thought and expected that by now I would have this… be doing that… I have been living my life in pursuit and treasuring the feeling that I thought fit best.

 I lived clinging to false security, assigning to God the truth based upon that which He had promised me. Birthed out of the hurt of the past and coupled with my passion, I have spent many a year trying to wrangle God, only to find out the whole time He has been wrangling me.

 He has broken me, in a sweet, but terribly painful way.  I am like a wild horse who, after it is broken, stops tearing down all the fences and has better hair. In the last few days, I have felt a sense of peace as new ideas have been percolating in my mind. Not the same old chaotic ideas, but ones associated with my newfound brokenness.

 Like what if I stopped working, seeking, and pursuing anything but God? I am not talking about giving up or quitting on my dreams nor am I talking about disbelief in the promises God gave me. I am speaking to only searching and seeking after God.

It was, in fact, God who made these promises over my life, the God above all other gods; so shouldn’t He be able to bring about all the necessary circumstances and such to bring me to my promises? This is the Christian life, the constant tension of what is, and what should be coupled with the pain of changing human emotions. Choosing over and over again who to follow and believe, to pick up your cross or to throw it down and scream for a bit.

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