i read these verses this morning: blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. as they pass through the valley of baca, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. they go from strength to strength, till each appears before GOD in zion.
it tells me that i am on a journey. a pilgrimage. to the holy temple where christ is dwelling. GOD purposes there to be points of rest where i gather up enough strength for the next haul. pools that were once dry will be fill when i get there. the pools will never be dry when i get there. the strength to carry on [insert rich mullins song here] is made available to me until i appear before GOD in zion.
delicious comfort. can one find comfort in a sugar induced brain freeze? and now to stop skirting around awkward glances. today is the day, last year, i found out my son had died in my womb. it was on the national day of prayer last year, a thursday. our now five year old son went with me to my prenatal appointment. everything was expected to be normal. it wasn’t. the doctor could not find a hearbeat. the portable ultrasound machine could not see movement. the larger more sensitive ultrasound machine at the hospital only confirmed our fears. instantly all my plans and dreams of being a mom of two were ripped from me. from us. i spent the last three hundred and sixty five days wondering what today was going to be like. what was i going to be like today? or on the seventh when a year ago i was forced to deliver our son. a day has not gone by when i/we do not think about it. while i appreciate the card in the mail one year later, or the email expressing support…i do not want it. i have been dreading today. dreading answering ‘what do i do?’ do we take time to mourn? have some kind of ceremony? but i have been taking that time everyday when i realize that where i am now is not where i wanted to be one year ago. sometimes i feel guilty that i have not cried everyday, even today. i feel numbed over. then i feel bad that i am so numb. and yes, i feel god in all of this. i felt him as close as my husband’s tight grip holding my hand while in the hospital. i felt him wash over our family bringing us a comfort we did not know we could have. i feel him everyday. “my health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; he is mine forever.” psalm 73:26