Ya’ll still out there? How are you? I hope all is well in your world.
It’s been a while since I’ve written anything. Even that last thing I posted was a repeat. All I can do is blame super busy work stuff. Unfortunately, unlike some million dollar sports guys who ride the bench, I actually have to produce something before people pay me. Can you imagine?
On top of all that work business, what my kids had as a cold turned into every respiratory ailment known to mankind wrapped up into one for me. In reality, it seemed like the flu or something similar, but it was pretty bad and I was down for the count.
Oh, and my husband fractured his foot. Annndd the kids decided to go for a year-round swim team and are now swimming eight days a week, 3,238 days a year. Other than that, not too much going on really—except that whole nor’easter and possible Hurricane Joaquin getting closer-than-we-like thing going on right now—not likely to do much of anything here though.
Anyway, as I come up for air, here’s a short thought for you…
A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting on our couch recovering from my woe-is-me illness and thinking over lifey stuff, when something like a movie started playing in my head. I was seeing the time when I had the miscarriage. Fourteen years have passed and, honestly, at times I still can be quite tender about it. As the “movie” kept going, it eventually showed my two girls, when they were born, as they grew, who they are now. I just knew as I watched, if I had had the first baby, the other two wouldn’t be here.
Make no mistake, I wanted that baby. I had prayed and prayed for that child. And then she was gone. Without warning. It was not a bad want. I didn’t do anything wrong. Yet, she was still taken from me. More often than we want, the good things get taken away and we can’t make heads or tails of why.
The thing is, as much as I wanted that baby, as long as I grieved, even as I still wince at the pain of it now, I cannot, cannot, cannot imagine my life without the kids I have now. The thought of the possibility of them not being here is beyond reason for me.
I share this because I feel strongly like I’m supposed to encourage someone out there with this thought: when good things are taken away, when bad happens, when you’ve done nothing wrong, or even if it’s all your fault, when pain is overwhelming, over time God can provide enough good to get ahead of the grief. To cover, inch-by-inch, the pain of the loss. Sometimes even to overcome it.
Bad is going to happen because loss is too much a part of this life. But good is going to happen too.
When you’re no longer in the thick of it, after some time has passed, take a look to see if you notice how the good things in life have been used to soothe over some of the rough spots, possibly overwhelm the pain—even if for just a moment or two.