“Grief was an odd sort of bird that flitted around in the background most of the time, but every so often, the bird would come to settle on her shoulder. And at those times she, like so many others, had no choice but to acknowledge its presence with tears.” -Joyce Magnin
This week, it will be four years. Four busy, challenging, fun, stretching, sad, confusing years. Four years of being acquainted with Grief because of miscarriage.
I cry when I think of the joy and wonder Jay and I are missing out on. I cry when women compare pregnancy and birth stories. I cry when I think of holding a little miracle in my arms. I cry when I hear how Jay put a friend’s little boy to bed, or when I see him playing with children. I cry when I remember kneeling by the bedside with a little girl who is talking to Jesus. I cry because I hate how cold and judgmental I can feel towards pregnant women. I cry because of lost dreams, lost hope, wavering faith, bitter jealousy. I cry at the aching child-shaped hole in my heart. I cry because I need prayer, a comforting hug, an understanding heart…
I cry because, even in this earth-shattering pain, I feel God crying with me. I cry as I feel His Presence surrounding me, comforting me. I cry because He knows; He understands. I cry, because as scared and confused as I am about our future, I know my Father has it all tenderly in His Hands…
…I cry…and the tears are healing. And as I heal, hope creeps back into my heart. The realist in me shakes her head and sighs…and that sigh says so much and has seen so much. But hope stays.
I love the verses from Exodus 33:22-23. “And while My Glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft of a rock and cover you with My Hand until I have passed by. Then I will take away My Hand and you shall see My back; but My Face shall not be seen.” I am in awe at the image of God tucking me into the cleft of a rock and protecting me with His Hand. I don’t like the dark, the confusion, the loneliness. But I’m not alone. God is right there, working out His Perfect Will.
For all those hurting today, or fighting a wearying battle, I don’t know where your tears are coming from. I don’t know or understand all the hurts buried deep, or the raw pain oozing out your pores. But I know Someone that does. And I hope and pray, with all my heart, that You can let My Father comfort you. Because once you experience His Love, you will never be the same.