I had that "deep cleaning" bug that all or us women get from time to time; going through drawers and paperwork piles...wiping whatever dried thing that was on the kitchen chair... regular mommy stuff. Tonight it was "under the bed." Lying against the cold floor, I was happy to see that it had been fairly well maintained since last time - just a dust bunny or two, and one other thing. I stretched for it, and brought out a little red box, tied with ribbon. "Probably leftover from Christmas, " I thought, pulling off the lid.
And then my heart stopped.
It was the box that I had made for him, and hid away.
All the feelings that I tried not to visit, poured into me again, overwhelming, aching, pricking my eyes with tears.
His hospital bracelet, all his ultrasound pictures. I fingered the hat and blanket that the nurses had brought while he lay, slipping away, over my heart.
Ethan pulled me into a hug.
"Why?" I breathed, sobbing.
"I don't know." He replied, quietly.
God's ways are higher, yes. All things work for our good, yes. He is the healer, yes. He brings the dead to life, yes. But where was He that day?
It's a question that echoes over and over through time; in hospitals, at gravesides, and in quiet places where no one sees. "How can God love me, and let me go through this?"
Hard stuff takes "What we believe" and moulds it into "What I believe." This is my anchor, and what I hold close, in my heart:
We're so quick to blame God, aren't we. In those tearful moments, we don't consider how His goodness floods our lives, and every sunrise is His gift to us. He prepares the breaths that we breathe, blesses our food, and brings our families back through the door every night - simple things that we barely consider. As if that wasn't enough, all of these "everyday" gifts are overshadowed by the cross where His own son bled mercy over our lives. Rising, He stretched a strong hand for us to hold through good and bad, all the way into the new world He is making for us.
Oh yes, our world is overwhelmed and carried captive by evil; but do we ever consider all that He's done to bring us back? He still protects us and holds us in His hand, and He's prepared such a beautiful place for those who love Him. Mercy, through trials, prepares us for that place.
Is this not love?
Today there are tears and heavy hearts, but also calm, knowing that our boy is safe. He was God's before He was ours, and I'm just thankful that he was shared with us for a few minutes. We have promises and evidences of the unfolding plans of God - for Wynn, and for us.
"They that sow in tears shall reap in joy." ( Psalm 126:5)
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There is a wonderful message by Bro. Branham called "I Know" that is really good for when you go through trials. My husband and I listened to it after my miscarriage. Chris W.
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