I lost my
baby.
How do
you grieve that? How do you come back to the place where you are whole and able
to move on without the terret-ish flurries? Or is that really wholeness? My
heart is hurting. I want THAT baby. That baby was part of me, it lived in me,
it was formed and magnificently designed inside of me. I want to think that I’m
over it, but I’m not. I'm admitting it. Is that how this grief thing
really works?
This
afternoon I was outside leveling a canyon that was left in our front yard by
the removal of a tree. The tree was gone long before we ever moved in, and it
left behind a huge hole filled with overgrown grass and surrounded by strangely
raised piles of earth that made it impossible to mow. When I started digging, I
was surprised to find the hole was actually quite deep. Suddenly, my shovel
struck something hard. I leveraged it and the root of the old tree broke
through the dirt. Surprisingly the inside of it still seemed fresh and alive.
My shovel
caught several more pieces, all with the same bright inside. I didn’t even
think twice about it until I started to throw the dirt in on tip of it all. It
felt as if something gripped me on the inside, in a place of pain and
confusion. Like in war movies when someone gets injured – ya know, the friend
comes along to tie a rag or something around the bloody wound and the pressure
HURTS LIKE HELL. Luckily I was sweating so much that none of my
neighbors could really tell the difference between the streams running
down my face.
I just
felt so raw and vulnerable. So unsure of whether my feet were on the ground or
over my head. I was a mess.
You know,
the Lord is so sweet. He is so gentle and kind. I was afraid to go there with
him outside in the driveway. But he pressed in to meet me. I carried on with my
‘hot yoga in the yard without the yoga’ workout and just kept seeing pictures
of these fresh pieces of old tree being buried in the ground. I kept thinking,
“What the heck does that mean? WAIT, don't tell me yet!”
I came
inside, got kids up from naps, played trains and cars and tickle time, made
dinner, put kids to bed, then started in on doing the dishes. And as I am
standing there washing the stupid huge pile of dishes-that-never-end in the
sink I hear the Lord singing over me:
“There
is no one else for me
None but
Jesus”
Over and
over and over again. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. No one but Jesus.
So I did
what a lot of people do… I looked in the freezer for some ice cream... which is
probably like my version of porn – satisfies for a second but leaves you
feeling just as crappy and regretful. There wasn’t any ice cream. I
thought about making pancakes… at 10 PM? I just couldn’t rationalize that. So
this is me saying,
JESUS!
THERE IS NO ONE ELSE FOR ME – ONLY YOU! HERE I AM, I WANNA MEET YOU.
Why do I
wait? Why do I resist? What am I hanging on to? What pain is worth holding
close more than you Jesus? Why am I afraid of you?
So now I
am back out at the hole in the ground crying out, “Meet me here God!” And
instead of my colorless and dimensionless swirl of emotion, I am caught up in
the whirlwind of his presence and love. Suddenly it’s not a hole in the ground,
but the hole in my soul. And he is swirling around it with fire, throwing seeds
of new life and fresh identity into the place where the pain is trying to swallow
me. His whirlwind is leveling the ground, and He’s filling the void with Jesus.
He is making me whole.
I wonder
if grieving isn't about getting to the place where you don’t think about
the pain anymore so you can move on. I think it’s a process where I get to
walk every step with the Lord; and when I step in a hole, allow him to
flurry around it, bringing the fruit of new life and identity into even the
most painful places in my heart, and heal it. It’s not about forgetting or
“getting past it,” it’s really not about any destination. It’s about allowing
myself to go there with him in everything, and letting him BIRTH his life and
identity out of my shoveled up soil. It's about being set free in that place.
This is what Jesus died for – the reconciling of every crooked place, the
leveling of the rough places to become plane. Every place of pain can
intersect with healing, and in Christ our identity is already
established as completely full.
Grieving is a beautiful mess when we
walk it with Jesus, no matter how dark, deep, scary or ugly the hole is.
In the quiet
In the stillness
I know that You are God
In the secret of Your presence
I know there I am restored
When You call I won't refuse
Each new day again I'll choose
There is no one else for me
None but Jesus
Crucified to set me free
Now I live to bring Him praise
In the chaos in confusion
I know You're sovereign still
In the moment of my weakness
You give me grace to do Your will
When You call I won't delay
This my song through all my days
All my delight is in You Lord
All of my hope
All of my strength
All my delight is in You Lord
Forever more
In the stillness
I know that You are God
In the secret of Your presence
I know there I am restored
When You call I won't refuse
Each new day again I'll choose
There is no one else for me
None but Jesus
Crucified to set me free
Now I live to bring Him praise
In the chaos in confusion
I know You're sovereign still
In the moment of my weakness
You give me grace to do Your will
When You call I won't delay
This my song through all my days
All my delight is in You Lord
All of my hope
All of my strength
All my delight is in You Lord
Forever more