Cling

My knees are healing.  CPR wounded me, in more ways than one.  I feel guilty and sad that they are healing.  Those abrasions and bruises connect me to my boy.  Those moments, forcing Haddy's heart to beat as I knelt over him on the concrete, were part of my fight to keep him here.  My prayers were too, but God in His sovereignty said no.  I can reason that it does no good to feel guilty.  I still do.  My muscles are no longer sore and my skin is nearly healed.  It has been eight days since I pulled his lifeless body from the pool.  Those images linger in my mind.  Sleep evades me.  My chest is always aching and it feels difficult to breathe.  I am weak.

I want to share a sweet truth God whispered into my soul back in 2015 while He was forming Haddy in my womb.  This is tender and true.  I don't feel all of the implications of this truth just yet, but I cling.  I cling to the One who etched it on my heart, even though He etched it through pain. 

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

9 "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 10 For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

I was asked in February 2015 to speak at a women's conference.  I prayed and prayed, felt the Lord tug on my heart, and said yes.  I had no idea what was up ahead.   In June of 2015, Jason resigned from our first church plant of five years.  We began grieving the loss of doing life with so many people that we dearly loved. 

The conference was planned for October and so I had to navigate the waters of grief while moving and pregnant (which means puking for me).  I had to find a way to encourage and uplift women in the center of what felt like chaos and grief.  I was completely in over my head.  I am entirely convinced that the weeping, the waiting on God for a good word were for me.  He stored these truths about His love in my heart.  I am in awe of God's tender care as He knit this text into my heart, even though it was painful.  He knew I would need it.  

I want to be real.  I am a woman who likes to get things done, and dare I say it, proud of that.  I come by it honestly.  My mother is fierce and kind.  She is vigilant and can usually find the solution to a problem if there is one.  Her strength and fortitude have been a comfort to me all the days of my life.  I have done everything in my power to emulate that strength.  God knew that I needed a deeper understanding of Him.  He knew my strength would fail.  The truth is that I don't need to be strong because His power is made perfect in my weakness.  Paul continues in this text with, "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."  This, it is what He is calling me to: to boast in my weakness.  I am not enough and I don’t have enough to navigate these waters.  I don’t have enough faith, strength, or good theology.  What I do have is the power of Christ to rest upon me.  He is enough.  He knows my thoughts and can more than handle my raw grief.  A dear friend came to my house early this morning and read this text over me.

Psalm 77

In the Day of Trouble I Seek the Lord

To the choirmaster: according to Jeduthun. A Psalm of Asaph.

77 "I cry aloud to God,
    aloud to God, and he will hear me. ² In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
    in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;
    my soul refuses to be comforted. ³ When I remember God, I moan;
    when I meditate, my spirit faints. Selah

⁴ You hold my eyelids open;
    I am so troubled that I cannot speak. ⁵ I consider the days of old,
    the years long ago. ⁶ I said, 'Let me remember my song in the night;
    let me meditate in my heart.'
    Then my spirit made a diligent search: ⁷ 'Will the Lord spurn forever,
    and never again be favorable? ⁸ Has his steadfast love forever ceased?
    Are his promises at an end for all time? ⁹ Has God forgotten to be gracious?
    Has he in anger shut up his compassion?' Selah

¹⁰ Then I said, 'I will appeal to this,
    to the years of the right hand of the Most High.^'

¹¹ I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
    yes, I will remember your wonders of old. ¹² I will ponder all your work,
    and meditate on your mighty deeds. ¹³ Your way, O God, is holy.
    What god is great like our God? ¹⁴ You are the God who works wonders;
    you have made known your might among the peoples. ¹⁵ You with your arm redeemed your people,
    the children of Jacob and Joseph. Selah

¹⁶ When the waters saw you, O God,
    when the waters saw you, they were afraid;
    indeed, the deep trembled. ¹⁷ The clouds poured out water;
    the skies gave forth thunder;
    your arrows flashed on every side. ¹⁸ The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind;
    your lightnings lighted up the world;
    the earth trembled and shook. ¹⁹ Your way was through the sea,
    your path through the great waters;
    yet your footprints were unseen. ²⁰ You led your people like a flock
    by the hand of Moses and Aaron."

I find it difficult right now, but Paul doesn’t stop with boasting in his weakness.  He says, "I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong."  To be content means to be satisfied.  A calamity is an event causing great and often sudden damage or distress, a disaster.  Will I ever be content with this calamity?  Oh Lord, not yet.  Our hearts are so raw right now.  Our children still cry in their sleep.  I don’t believe I must currently feel contentment with the loss of my son.  Hear me, though. I want the Lord to carry me to that place of contentment.  I do not want to worship my Haddy, nor do I want to worship grief, my living children, or my husband.  I want to worship God in the painstaking mystery of His providence.  I want to build an altar and worship the God who told me no.  He is worthy.  He is good.  He is mine.  

Dear friends, please listen.  Any strength, any faith you see should be attributed to the faithfulness and strength of a good and sovereign God.  I am not strong.  My faith, my theology, my family are not strong enough to withstand this tragedy.  If you see strength, it is the power of Christ resting upon me.  I am not a super-Christian.  I am weak.  I am clinging to Christ, but in raw form.  My prayers are wails and groaning with the inability to put words together well.  

I want each person who reads these words to know, God is a good, good God.  He is not a respecter of persons and He is available to each of us. Please continue the great work of praying for us.  Please seek Him, know Him, search Him.  I know my heart is not the only one enduring substantial grief.  Seek Him for the well of sorrow in your own hearts.  He is faithful and He is near.