He is still Holy.

         It has been a month since the passing of my sweet little Sadie bug and this is the first time that I have written since. I’m not sure how a month has passed already.  Sometimes I feel as though part of me is still in that room that had become my home in the NICU.  At times, days would pass when I didn’t leave that room, much less go outside. For three weeks the majority of my time was spent in “the big green chair” snuggling with my little lady. It is amazing how hours can go by examining every little inch, being in awe of each, wrinkle, yawn, and smile.  I wanted so much to be able to stop time, yet it seems as though the arms of the clock sped in circles. Isn’t it interesting that when you are in a hurry, time creeps by and when you want time to stand still, it seems to speed up?  

           While I was on bed rest this summer, I would look out the window and long to be out working in my garden. I love to watch everything grow and then pick fresh vegetables to fix for dinner.  There is such a joy and sense of satisfaction!  Yet, this summer,  it seems the Lord was doing a more important work of nurturing seeds that He had planted in my heart.  It is as if the Lord has had me in school for the past year, especially the last month. Even though I majored in Biblical Studies in college, these lessons cannot be learned by sitting in a classroom. They are lessons that are only taught through living, through suffering and brokenness. These are lessons of faith, trust, hope, and love in Christ. But one of  the lessons I have been learning most recently is how much God hates self-pity.

               Over the last month since losing Sadie, I have felt the Lord carry me and honestly there have been times when I felt as though I were being treated cruelly.  I have, in agony, I asked the Lord, “Why me? As there are women all around me having babies, little girls, why do they get to keep their babies and I don’t?   I have cried myself to sleep and thrown temper tantrums sobbing, “I want my way. I want my baby.  I don’t want to do this anymore.” I have looked back on my life and the many tragedies it has seen, losing my sister, my mother, and my papa, all in very sad circumstances. The consequences of my own sin have caused me to live through things that many never have to experience. The realities of this world and sin have affected every time and area of my life. Through my sorrow over the last weeks I have asked the Lord, “Isn’t that enough? Must I lose my baby too?  I feel as though You are crushing me.  People have tragedies in their life, but why must I endure so many?” In the midst of these tears, the Lord very firmly, yet tenderly began to answer through His Word. He brought to mind the words of Paul in 2 Corinthians 11, when he recounted the number of times he had been beaten, stoned, shipwrecked, flogged, hungry, thirsty, in danger, and left for dead. In his writings, Paul speaks of his own weakness, yet boasts in Christ. We are weak. I am weak. But it is through our weaknesses that Christ’s strength can be seen.  Throughout this journey, there have been a couple of times when I have felt that the Holy Spirit was undeniably pressing something upon my heart. I say this carefully and reverently. One of these times was when we were first told that we would never give birth to a living child. That day I felt the Lord beckoning me to jump freely into His will, trusting wholeheartedly and that He would not, nor could not fail me. The second time was after one of these tantrums. After the Lord so graciously reminded me of the words of Paul, I began to feel like Job when the Lord had answered him, “Who darkens my counsel with words without knowledge?” I felt so clearly that the Lord firmly impressed, Do you think I did not love my servant Paul? Was I being cruel to him? What do you want? What do you really want? Do you want Me or do you want your comfortable life? Do you want your nice house, nice car, nice job, nice, neat, and comfortable life or DO YOU WANT ME? As I sobbed, “you know Lord, I want you.” Then what are you doing on the floor?   Do you not know that you are in a battle? Why are you laying there getting defeated? Get up and fight!  “Don’t throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. You have a need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God, you may receive what is promised” (Hebrews 10)… ME! I am your reward, I am your inheritance. I AM. “My righteous one shall live by faith, and if he shrinks back, my soul has no pleasure in him.”  Woah…..what was that last part? If he shrinks back I have no pleasure in him? But doesn’t this seem like the time when I should get a break? When my heart is crushed and I am broken beyond understanding? If there were a time to be full of self-pity, it would be now, right? No one would blame me… except the Lord.  As believers, there is never a time to swim in self pity, or even nurture those thoughts. Not when Christ endured death and wrath on our behalf. But there is a time to fight. There is a time to wield our sword. Sometimes we are unaware of the war. Sometimes it seems as though we are just coasting through life, but in reality as long as we are on this earth, the war never ends.  We can have peace and joy in the midst, but we are always to be on guard and ready. We must know how to use our sword so that when the battle comes we aren’t unprepared and defeated. We will lose battles,  but we enter a war where the outcome has already been determined. There is no reason to just lay there and be defeated. In fact the verse I quoted earlier in Hebrews tells us that not only is there no reason to shrink back, but the Lord will take no pleasure in the one who does. We are called to fight.  Never have I been more aware of the battle than now. This is not just a lesson for me, it is a lesson for you. Our answer is to be, “We are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed. But of those who have faith and preserve their souls.”

          The Lord does not “take it easy” on us, even when we want Him to, even when we think He should. He is Mercy and He is kind, compassionate, and patient. But that doesn’t in any way mean that He is pleased when we wallow in self pity. He hates it, it is sin that must be repented of.  Christ drank of a bitter cup that we will never taste, what do you have to complain about? We must get over ourselves and look to Christ. What complaints do we have to bring to the Throne of God? The book of Job is a perfect example. Look at all he endured. He lost everything: his loved ones, his livelihood, and his health. There was no part of his life that was untouched. And his friends were of no encouragement whatsoever. They didn’t come around and bear his burden with him, they chastised him. In the world’s eyes, Job would have every reason to complain. Yet when he speaks to the Lord, the Lord responds with, “Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge?” Shouldn’t this be where God gives Job a break? Gives him a self-help book? Maybe a nice little encouraging speech about how sorry He is for Job? What about the many other “tragedies” in Scripture? And if God’s response does not resemble what we think it should, does it mean that He loves us any less or that He doesn’t care about what we are going through? That He is heartless or unfeeling? No! It means that He loves us enough to see past the pain to the treasures that it brings forth. It means that He loves us enough to not allow us to wallow and be defeated. It means that His desire is that we know Him.   He endured more than we could ever imagine when He took upon Himself the pain and punishment for our sin. The greatest tragedy of all history is that the pure, spotless Son of God died on a cross meant for sinners. Yet it pleased God. He did it for us.  He won the battle for us. He has graced us with every tool that we need for battle and He has sent His Holy Spirit to guide, teach, and train us. We have no reason to complain. But we must take our eyes off ourselves. We must look to Christ. We must fight. When we get knocked down, and we will, we must get back up. It is in our weakness that God’s strength is manifested. I was listening to a sermon a few days after Sadie passed away. In it, the preacher said when you say, “I can’t do this, I can’t endure this”, we are not trusting in God, but in ourselves. However there is a great freedom in realizing that “No, we can’t do this, we can’t do anything.” We don’t have to be overwhelmed, we can be set free. We can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t endure the loss of my daughter. I can’t endure this pain. I can’t win this battle. But Christ has already carried this burden for me. I am free. The Lord is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He is as faithful this day as the day that we found out we were having a baby. He is as faithful as the day that Sadie was born and we heard her first cry. He could have healed her. He didn’t. He could have allowed her to live. He didn’t. That does not change who He is.  He is faithful.

        The way in which Sadie passed was not easy. The last few days of her life were hard, for her and for us. But when the Lord took her, it was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. I have never experienced the nearness of the Lord in such a way. There was an overwhelming joy and peace as He took her from my arms into His. I will never forget that moment. And though it may be hard to understand, it was not a tragic, it was beautiful. Since then, I have had many painful moments that seemed to be lacking peace and joy. My heart has been ripped in two. But the tragedy would be to allow Satan to steal the treasures of this trial. It would be to allow sin to rob God’s glory by wallowing in self. Please don’t misunderstand me. The Lord is compassionate to me in every single moment. He empathizes with my pain, He understands losing a child. He holds me and comforts me. There is not a tear that goes unnoticed. He is tender and kind. He envelopes me in His Spirit. I am never alone for a minute. He desires that we bring our pain and hurt to Him.   Pain is real and we aren’t to act as if it isn’t. We aren’t to be fake and pretend like we are made of steel. We aren’t to be stoic statues. We aren’t even to act as though we have it all together or even as if we understand everything. But we are to act as though we serve a God who does. We serve a Mighty and Sovereign Lord, who through His great love is firm with us.  We are to act as though we truly believe what we profess. Do we really believe that He is the sovereign, omnipotent Savior? Do we truly believe that He is trustworthy? Do we believe that His Word and His promises are true? Then we must act like it. His glory is what we live and die for.
             There are many things that have been crucified in me over the last months and I am so grateful. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is a beautiful and divine purpose to losing Sadie. I know that He will use each and every tear to shape and mold me.  After all, I asked Him for this. On my knees, I have cried to the Lord to do whatever necessary to get glory from my life and make me look like Him. And though I know that in a sense, the pain of this journey will never go away, that it truly is for my good and for His glory.  I will trust in Him and through His grace, I will rest in His promises, come what may.  He did not withhold His Son for me and I cannot withhold my all from Him! I am learning to “rejoice in the fellowship of His suffering”. I am His and He is mine. Oh how He loves us! How beautiful and marvelous He is! He is good and worthy of our lives, of our all!  His burden is not heavy. In Him is peace and joy and fullness of life. "In His presence is fullness of joy and at His right Hand are pleasures forevermore."  He is still Holy.

I stood a mendicant (beggar) of God before His royal Throne; and begged Him for one priceless gift which I could call my own.

I took the gift from out His hand but as I would depart I cried, "Lord, this is a thorn and it has pierced my heart. This is a strange and hurtful gift which Thou hast given me."

He said, "My child, I give good gifts and I gave My best to Thee." I took it home and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore; as long years past I learned at last to love it more and more.  I learned He never gives a thorn without this added grace-

He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil that hides His Face. –Martha Nicholson