to the mourning mother

 Lord, may my words reflect Your goodness, Your presence, Your love, and glorify Your name. May my mourning, my grief, my struggle, and my pain be redeemed for a greater, holy, heavenly purpose.

It's been a year and half. 2 consecutive miscarriages. Countless blood work and doctors appointments. Anxiety and fear. Grief and loss. Anger and bitterness. Joy and celebration. Prayer and weeping.

I like to believe that this last year has completely transformed me. I have learned a lot. I have grown a lot. My first lesson involved carrying two polar opposite emotions simultaneously, while validating them both. When it comes to emotions, I have always been head over the heart. Thinker before feeler. I always analyze through my emotions before I can allow myself to "feel" them. After my first miscarriage, I experienced a lot of friends venturing their first pregnancies. The amount of joy I felt for them, and sorrow I felt for myself were measuring the same. How can I be happy for my friends when I'm crying about myself? Feelings of guilt and shame come along with the inability to celebrate for your friends without limits and footnotes. 

My friend gave birth to her firstborn on my due date. I was torn between the forces of joy and sorrow. But as my wise, younger sister reminded me: "there are two celebrations occurring in heaven. One for your unborn child and one for theirs. Both can happen simultaneously." 

Praise be to God, that His realm is big enough to celebrate the miscarried child and the healthy newborn baby. His love carries the post-partum mother and the mourning miscarrying mother. His death and resurrection protects the unborn, the newborn, the laboring, and the mourning. While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Our lives, under His gifts, are a complete contradiction. While I am completely sinful, I am completely saved. While I grieve and experience the brokenness and pain of sin, I receive His surpassing peace and redemption. While God is complete justice, He is complete mercy. While He provides, He takes away. Our God is not only big enough, but intimate enough to take the tension between joy for others and sorrow for ourselves. He takes it all, so all we have to do is give. Give Him the moments of celebration & joy. Give Him the nights of anger and tears. Give Him the days when both happen at the same time. He takes it, redeems it, and claims it as His own.