Saturday, April 28, 2012
Back to Normal (whatever that is)
Today might have been the hardest day I've had since this whole season started. It was my first day of work, coming from a 78-day maternity leave and 5-day bereavement leave--the longest "vacation" I've ever had since I started working. It's not a vacation I wanted to have, at least not the latter five days. I simply wanted to have my 78 days (maybe 60 if I had a normal delivery) with my little angel Brooke, but since it didn't turn out that way, I had a long and very insightful amount of time to think and heal and cry and heal and think. God was always present nonetheless, and that's why I wasn't at all miserable during such a long break.
Going back to work just crept up on me, and before I knew it, it was time to get things back to normal. But after everything that's happened, what is normal anyway? It's kind of terrifying to move on to the things I used to do before I had and lost Brooke. How would my normal day look when in the midst of my routines and tasks, I'd still be missing her and still have the screaming longing in my heart to have her here? I just couldn't reconcile it. I lay on my bed this morning feeling paralyzed and simply unable to start the day.
Then in all my analysis paralysis and tear-soaked sheets, God just completely snapped me out of it. I was overcome with such a certainty that I was being held back from moving on because the story I had to tell and work I had before me would be of impact in God's kingdom. Of course, the enemy would not have any of it. So, by God's grace, there I was taking one heavy step at a time towards my new normal. It got easier, then it got a little more fun, til I started remembering what I was here for--to glorify God in every season.
This is my new normal--a juggling act of still grieving yet persevering in the hope and joy that God loves me. It's a tall order, but then God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Labels: Brooke, faith
posted by mari_elle at
00:23
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Hurting but Healing
I am one of the slowest readers on the planet for sure! But when I finally found
Choosing to See by
Mary Beth Chapman at Fully Booked after having looked for it high and low since Brooke joined Jesus, I knew, I just knew, I'd devour that book in no time.
She, too, lost a daughter. Her journey was different from mine in that Maria Sue was killed in an accident, but our journey is in many ways the same in that we both understand God's sovereignty and divine plan, we're both happy that our little princesses are safe in the arms of our Savior, and yet we both will never stop wanting to hold them in our arms.
Brooke will always be a part of me, and to be physically without her makes me feel like I can never be completely whole again in this life. I'd like to be able to say that God's grace enables me to move forward miraculously without the scars brought about by losing her. However, I also know that it is in my honesty and weakness that God's grace can be magnified. I don't have it all together, but my Jesus does, and because He does, He holds me together. Broken and yet completely whole in Him. Hurting and yet healing because of His finished work on the cross.
Books have been my friends in this season of questions. I've been drawn to women who have experienced a similar loss, hoping to grasp from their story some comfort that things will get better in time. But at the end of the day, it's just me and my Father in Heaven. No amount of comforting words, inspirational books, and milk tea therapy (so shoot me! I'm into the fad! teehee) will ever make up for the fact that it's only Brooke that I want--to hold her, smell her, tickle her, and see her grow up into a beautiful woman. It's only when I come before God in all my heartache and brokenness that I experience comfort that lasts. It's only when I am able to ask Him to turn this pain into gold that I can truly be happy and expectant at the amazing things He will bring our way as we faithfully walk this broken road with Him by our side.
Labels: Brooke, faith
posted by mari_elle at
12:54
Friday, April 20, 2012
Pain & Purpose
I've been reading Philip Yance's book
Where Is God When It Hurts?, and I've been coming to terms with the reality, and good news, that this excruciating pain of losing my baby girl can be redeemed.
I've been asking God for the many weeks since Brooke when home to Jesus that He take away the pain--a pain so unbearable and unreal yet ironically very very real to me. I've been whining and pining to Him, pleading with Him to ease the sting I feel every minute of the day, which is every minute spent without holding Brooke. In reading this book, it turns out I may have been stuck praying all the wrong prayers.
God cannot lie. I know He loves me and wants to bless me. But in knowing that profound love, I should also come to terms with the fact that God permitting me to endure this pain is part of His unfathomable love for me. For clarity's sake, I do not believe for one minute that God inflicted this pain upon me. Rather, He allows me to go through it for a purpose bigger and more grand than I can ever grasp.
Yance explains that pain is actually a friend--a signal that something is wrong and something has to be done. (Think cavity, toothache, root canal). Losing a child brings about the kind of pain that will most certainly linger for a lifetime. So perhaps my prayer should be, not that God take away the pain (which I've learned is impossible), but that He redeem it.
Redemption is in the molding of my character; to have the capacity to trust Him when this world fails me. Redemption is in the lives touched by Brooke's story; as parents it is now Michael's and my duty to make sure her story is told for God's glory. Redemption is in the reaffirmation in my heart that God is God and that He has not, nor will He ever, abandon me; that I bow down to His sovereignty and run to Him in the pain instead of running away in bitterness.
Though I will never desire to endure this pain, I will remember that pain has its purpose, a purpose of which I will willingly, though painfully, do my best to be a good steward.
Labels: Brooke, faith, family
posted by mari_elle at
15:51
