Author: joyfuldomesticity

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Monday March 15, 2010

(excerpted) ~~>
I yearn for the days that we ‘didn’t know.’  The days when pregnancy was blissful and normal, filled with joy and anticipation.  


I want my ignorance back!  I want to be able to believe, once again, that NOTHING could possibly go wrong ~ that I could NEVER be a statistic.  I want to be able to think of a newborn baby and not cry or feel such intense jealousy that I don’t even recognize myself.   I want to be able to wear my maternity clothes with pleasure again.  To feel like I am blossoming and not getting ready to implode. 

I want the light switch moments of my life back.  I want to be one of the others who do not understand what it is like to lose a child.   Instead, I don’t get to choose and just have to live with it.  It has become part of who I am.  I have to learn to survive ~ to find the elusive “new normal.”   

I just want a life jacket or a boat that will carry me in the current of death.  I want to believe that God is that for me…but He seems so very far away right now.  Sometimes, even with my best efforts, I get pulled under and tossed about, in the emotion that I don’t see coming.  One word, one look, one encounter, one smell, one song, one thing ~ is all it takes to blindside me. 

I don’t ever get to just turn it OFF!  I have to pray to get through.  I have to hope that each day, I will find it easier to anticipate.  

How very lucky the others are, to be able to offer support and then go on with their lives.   Feeling better for having reached out and stepping out of their comfort zone, knowing that when they turn back around, their normal life will be waiting.  Like a bit of mud on hiking shoes.  It is easy to dislodge once you get out of the muck, take off your shoes, and let it dry.  I don’t get to wear hiking boots, I have to walk through in my bare feet.  I have to feel rough terrain:  each rock, brier,  and thorn that threatens to cut my feet to shreds. 

In all of this, all I can do is wait and pray.  Pray that God will continue to help me feel His unconditional love.  Pray that even when I turn from Him, because I expect that I will (I am only human), He will embrace me. 

I know that many of you are reading and hoping to offer some kind of relief from the pain.  I don’t know that it is even possible.  Pain is something that only God can help me with.  But I do know that there is support (I can feel it) in the form of prayers.  And I think that it is safe to say that we don’t want to be forgotten or avoided. 

Right now, I don’t know that there will ever be a time when we will be ‘better’  just ‘better at hiding our pain.’

A woman I know online, a sweet bereaved mommy, wrote the above excerpt. Our experiences are not identical, but these are words I could have penned myself. I wanted to share them with you, so that you know I am not the only one feeling these things. Her heart, her courage, her writing, her faith are beautiful to me.

Recently one of you said that it is courageous of me to share some of what I do with you. Thank you for recognizing that. You know I don’t have to bare my soul to you. I don’t have to tell you of my grief or share my heart with you. I didn’t even have to tell you that five of my children ever even existed! You never would have known the difference. Right?
But actually… I don’t believe that. I believe I do have to share with you (although I share even more on my private family blog – aren’t you glad you aren’t privy that one?!), and that God has called me to proclaim His glories and faithfulness through my loss and grief and pain. And I can’t even imagine ignoring the existence of any of my children.
Life on earth only lasts for so long. Life in heaven is eternal.
That is where true life lies.
Although most of the time I tend to think of Covenant, Glory, Promise, Peace, and Mercy as having died – in truth, they are the ones who are truly living. Those of us left behind to walk the dust of this earth for our threescore and ten – we are dying. We are simply longing for the true life of heaven to which five of my children have already attained.
How beautiful that is.
(Beautiful, at least, when I am not in a moment of overwhelming grief, and am willing to see its beauties.)

Anyway…

Someone else also recently wanted to encourage me (thank you for that, too!) not to grow weary during this hard time. That is something I am praying for grace to do – to endure with faithfulness, not growing weary – although it is honestly tempting to simply throw it all away and wallow in tears. But that’s something you won’t see me do. By God’s all-sufficient grace. (Amen.)

Many people have told me that Gabriel will make a huge impact on the Kingdom. And I truly believe that. I believe that God has prepared great things (whether he sees it in his lifetime or not) for this little boy. He survived against odds I can’t even comprehend. He had about a 5-8% chance of being born. What a miraculous little life. Sustained by God’s very words.
And not that I expect my Gabriel to be a Samuel, Jacob, or Moses necessarily — but the Lord had him survive against great odds. I truly do believe that whether I have other biological children or not, the Lord has great things planned for my son. Gabriel belongs to the Lord, and I am eager to see the paths He has prepared for this little boy as he grows.
Yes, many “great men” were from small families. Many women were mothers of few children. The most common  examples people give me are (predictably) Sarah and Hannah, but there are many others. And no, of course I do not believe that having more children is more holy or more honorable. I am definitely not in the “Quiverfull Movement” (oooh, do I sense another blog post coming there?? hmmm…).
Of course that does not necessarily mean that we will give up pursuing more children for the Kingdom (either on earth or in heaven), as our Lord leads. At this point, we feel strongly the Lord calling us to endurance. So we must follow Him and His call. We seek His wisdom and guidance as we move forward. We know that He will continue to guide our footsteps, and we are praying for discernment as we follow Him.

Certainly, yes, Gabriel is young – not yet two years old. And certainly, no, I am not too old to bear children.
But these things, I’m afraid, are not the point.
Gabriel’s age is irrelevant.
And I am not a “normal” bereaved mommy. The majority of women (85%, according to most statistics) who endure a pregnancy loss will go on to have perfectly normal, full term, healthy pregnancies following a miscarriage/stillbirth. While having one miscarriage is very common, it is less common to have recurrent miscarriages (some places say that chance of recurrent miscarriage is only 1%, while others say 1 in 200 couples). And with each miscarriage a woman has, her statistic chance of having a healthy baby in the future goes down significantly. After having five miscarriages (regardless of having a live birth in there – because Gabriel has already been established as a miracle), my statistical chance of having a healthy baby is 5%. Five.
For me, being young makes no difference.
And for me, trying again makes no difference.
Most of my babies have not died from some random chromosomal anomaly that will likely not reoccur in a future pregnancy. It is our belief, according to the knowledge that God has provided us, that only one of our babies has died from aneuploidy.
For most women, seeing a heartbeat on an ultrasound is a comfort – for me, it means nothing. While risk of miscarriage for most women drops to 5% or less after confirming a heartbeat in a baby over 6 weeks’ gestational age, it doesn’t for me.
Maybe some of you will remember that Peace miscarried in November just a few hours after we saw his gorgeous little heartbeat (it was the second time we’d seen it).

I’m not asking for pity here. That’s not why I am writing this.
I just wanted to make some clarifications. For myself, if not for you.

I am not most women.
I am not even most bereaved women.

While yes, there may be time and there may be hope – when you’re in my shoes, both of those things are limited.
My body now will rely largely on medical intervention to prepare for and protect pregnancy. Any time that I could possibly conceive, I need to be monitored closely and continue these medical interventions (unless we want to keep miscarrying 4 or 5 babies a year for the rest of my fertile years). If you know anything about lab work, medications, medical specialists, plasma, i.v.’s, etc – you will understand that these are not cheap. And while we pay for good insurance, our insurance does not have to cover these things (we pray that they will continue to cover a percentage though). If our insurance drops us, you’ll realize (ca-ching) that my childbearing days may be over.
And, please note, these medical interventions are still balancing on the skinny branches: while not exactly experimental anymore, they are far from common practice. There are no guarantees. None.
Yes, it is possible that I will be able to have more biological children with the aid of i.v.’s, shots, and medications.
And yes, it is possible that my body will be resistant and will simply continue to miscarry repeatedly.

This is where I stand.
This is where God has us.
This is what our kind Father ordained for us, prepared for us, and carries us through.

Yes, we want more children.
No, we are not unthankful for our one living son.
Yes, we acknowledge that a family of 3 is just as useable in God’s kingdom as a family of 8.
No, we do not feel God calling us to complacent contentment.
Yes, we are pursuing more biological children as God provides.
No, we will not stop pursuing where God leads.
Yes, He may change His direction of leading.
No, He will not leave or forsake us.
Yes, He may use miracles (like Gabriel) or medical science (which He has given us as a gift).
No, there are no guarantees.
Yes, we continue to grieve for our five children in heaven.
No, this is not wrong but right.

Answer this for me: if you have six children and five of them die, would you not grieve? Would you want someone telling you that you need to get over it, be happy, simply try again (there’s time and hope that you can replace those kids)? Obviously not.

And if you think for a second, “but your five children died before they were born” – stop it. Get over yourself.
Life begins at conception.
These are my sons and daughters.
They are heirs to the Kingdom of Heaven.

We do have hope.
But where is that hope?
I must cling to God alone for hope, especially in the midst of grief. Not to hope of a future healthy baby. I would be deluded if I thought that my hope and my joy will come from a healthy pregnancy… that will only bring me joy ultimately if my first joy is found in the Lord. So yes, I am praying for a deeper faith, a deeper relationship with my King, and a stronger bond with His people. I want to find my joy there, and my fulfillment. I want to.

But my hope in God and my hope for more children are not mutually exclusive.

Thanks for letting me be courageous, for reading this piece of my heart.
Thanks for trying to understand (even though you can’t).
Thanks for praying for us.

Posted on

Saturday March 13, 2010

The boy is napping and the hubby is working outside in the yard. I am supposed to be drinking tea and reading – but my tea (earl grey – my daily favorite) is already cold. So why not take another few minutes to say hello to the world? 🙂
We went out on a little family date today. My tires needed switched out (in fact, we never really needed my studded tires this year), so while they were being done, we went to Starbucks for a rare treat, and then to the grocery store to wander around and pick out a few special things for upcoming meals. Like delicious-looking olives for our Sabbath supper tomorrow night (after our niece & nephew’s birthday party!), paired with applewood smoked cheddar cheese & crackers & red wine.
Delicious food has been something I’ve enjoyed focusing on lately. Making dinners that are new to our palate, and coming up with some new kitchen skills along the way. I have even added some new ingredients to my fridge lately: like fresh ginger, green onions, and fresh parsley – apparently these are all much better fresh than dried, so I’ve been giving it a shot. 🙂
I have made a bunch of new recipes this week, including a crockpot version of Beef Burgundy, a Blackberry Buckle, a round loaf of sweet bread (I don’t generally use recipes for bread, but this one was worth trying), and Chicken Scampi over Lemon Noodles. Mmmm! Tonight we’re opting for quick and familiar: salad (with homemade dressing and croutons) and grilled burgers. I just hope it doesn’t rain on the grilling… it isn’t as fun to grill in a storm. 🙂
I am looking forward to giving my niece & nephew their birthday gifts tomorrow. They won’t probably love them as much as I do – especially because they will be dripping in oodles of birthday gifts from all the relatives… but hey, it’ll be fun anyway. 🙂 I can’t believe they will be one year old this week!
As much as I am excited they are turning one, it is also bringing up memories that I am not looking forward to delving into. A year ago I was pregnant with Glory Hesed. I never really imagined that I would still be newborn-less a year later. And, at the very least, I thought I would have a full womb now. But nope. Empty. And I hate that. I’m pretty sick of it, actually. I feel alone in my plight… and then God reminds me (as I will elaborate upon in a moment) that I’m not. Even though I may feel it.
One of the hidden blessings that comes with being a bereaved mommy is the perspective I can bring to others. So many women take pregnancy for granted. They take healthy babies for granted. They take motherhood for granted. And not that I am perfect either. I am a sinner, too! And my perspective isn’t always what I would like. For instance, last night I was exhausted – it had been a long day, and an even longer week. And I really just wanted Gabriel to go to bed so I could take a long hot shower & head to bed too. My normal bedtime routine with him is to read 3 books, sing 3 songs, pray together, put him in bed, give him his blessing, and leave the room. It takes a good 20 minutes. Last night I picked short books and short songs. And he desperately wanted one more book (which may have turned into four more books, if I had let it…). But I said no. Was that selfish? Or was it prudent? And how do I know the difference sometimes? I’m uncertain. I told him that we’d already read our three books, and it was time to sing. So he cried a little as I sang him three short liturgical hymns (they tend to be the shortest…), and then he was fine and ready to pray and ready to go to bed.
As I sang, I remembered my five little babies who I no longer get to read bedtime stories to. I no longer get to rock them and sing to them at night. And I wish I could. I sincerely, desperately wish I could read them “just one more book.”
One of the songs I sing to Gabriel (the one that I always end with, and the only one that I faithfully sing every single night) goes like this:
God that madest earth and heaven, darkness and light;
Who the day for toil hast given, for rest the night;
May Thine angels guard defend us,
Slumber sweet Thy mercy send us,
Holy dreams and hopes attend us
This live-long night.
Guard us waking, guard us sleeping, and when we die;
May we in Thy mighty keeping all peaceful lie;
When the last dread call shall wake us,
Do not Thou our God forsake us,
But to reign in Glory take us
With Thee on high.
I love this song. And yet it is so painful for me. I have sung this to all of my babies. All of them. And the hardest part for me is when I am pregnant, and I have to sing the line about guarding us when we die. Five of my babies have died, and I have prayed this song with them in my belly.
Yes, I am continuing to grapple with grief. It comes and it goes, against my will and even sometimes against my expectations. God continues to teach me, mold me, break me, grow me, forgive me, love me, and sustain me.
And -back to my original thought- I am beginning to be equipped with so much with which to help other bereaved mothers. I am part of a few online forums/groups of bereaved women, and I am constantly surprised by how often the Lord brings certain women to talk with me, ask for prayer, ask for wisdom, wanting to know my experiences. I feel so helpless and useless, and yet the Lord is using me. I get emails not infrequently (four in the last month) from women (some I know, others have simply stumbled upon me) who have lost babies. I feel blessed to pray for them, to weep with them (because you know I do), to grieve with them, and to offer any support that I can. Even though I feel so ill-equipped, I can tell that God is continuing to equip & use me.
I don’t know what He is going to do with me long-term. But I have no doubt that He is molding me for lifelong service. I am not in love yet with the idea of forever being surrounded by grief and sorrow – but I am called to serve Him and His people. And I will do whatever He asks of me. If I can help any hurting mother whose arms are aching & empty – it gives my babies’ lives & deaths even more beauty & purpose by the grace of God, and lengthens their legacies.
Please pray with me that God would use me in His kingdom, for His kingdom, by His power & strength.

I was reading more Amy Carmichael poetry this afternoon, and wanted to share this poem, which so aptly describes what I feel:

Thy servant, Lord, hath nothing in the house,
Not even one small pot of common oil;
For he who never cometh but to spoil
Hath raided my poor house again, again–
That ruthless strong man, armed, whom men call Pain.

I thought that I had courage in the house,
And patience to be quiet and endure,
And sometimes happy songs. Now I am sure
Thy servant truly hath not anything;
And see, my song-bird hath a broken wing.

~~

My servant, I have come into the house–
I who know Pain’s extremity so well
That there can never be the need to tell
His power to make the flesh and spirit quail:
Have I not felt the scourge, the thorn, the nail?

And I, his Conqueror, am in the house,
Let not your heart be troubled–do not fear:
Why shouldst thou, child of Mine, if I am here?
My touch will heal thy song-bird’s broken wing,
And he shall have a braver song to sing.

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Wednesday March 10, 2010


OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII.
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1849)

 

STRONG Son of God, immortal Love,

Whom we, that have not seen Thy face,

By faith, and faith alone, embrace,

Believing where we cannot prove;

Thine are these orbs of light and shade;

Thou madest Life in man and brute;

Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot

Is on the skull which Thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:

Thou madest man, he knows not why,

He thinks he was not made to die;

And Thou hast made him: Thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine,

The highest, holiest manhood, Thou:

Our wills are ours, we know not how;

Our wills are ours, to make them Thine.

Our little systems have their day;

They have their day and cease to be:

They are but broken lights of Thee,

And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith: we cannot know;

For knowledge is of things we see;

And yet we trust it comes from Thee,

A beam in darkness: let it grow.

Let knowledge grow from more to more,

But more of reverence in us dwell;

That mind and soul, according well,

May make one music as before,

But vaster. We are fools and slight;

We mock Thee when we do not fear:

But help Thy foolish ones to bear;

Help Thy vain worlds to bear Thy light.

Forgive what seem’d my sin in me;

What seem’d my worth since I began;

For merit lives from man to man,

And not from man, O Lord, to Thee.

Forgive my grief for one removed,

Thy creature, whom I found so fair.

I trust he lives in Thee, and there

I find him worthier to be loved.

Forgive these wild and wandering cries,

Confusions of a wasted youth;

Forgive them where they fail in truth,

And in Thy wisdom make me wise.

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Monday March 8, 2010

Today I had another immunoglobulin blood infusion, to help my body with my autoimmune problem. It is longer and more complicated than most of you want to hear, so I won’t go into details. 🙂 I am thankful that today’s treatment is done, and that after tomorrow it will be another month until I need my next one. Once I got my headache (a common side effect) under control and rested for a while after the i.v. treatment was done, I did some baking and eventually a little reading (while Gabriel watched a dvd). God never fails to provide for me, not only physically but emotionally & spiritually – if I just open my eyes to see it. Steven sent me the most wonderful email this morning, reminding me to take everything to my Lord in prayer. I needed that. And a lady from church who used to get blood infusions (different from mine, yet similar in essence) emailed me today to say she’s praying for me & wanted to encourage me to fight this good fight – reminding me again that it is a good fight. How easily I forget that. And my mama spent hours here today watching Gabriel for me while I was tied to the i.v. as well as afterward when I wasn’t feeling well enough to look after him myself (I still have the hep-lock in my arm, so that makes things a little tricky with a youngin’). Even in my baking today (for our dinner with friends tonight), He provided: I had two eggs left and 2 teaspoons of baking powder left. Well, guess what? I needed one egg and 2 tsp of baking powder for the dessert, and I needed one egg for the bread. How good is our God! Even in the little details. Just another reminder to me of how I need to ask for daily grace, my daily bread, because He only ever promises to give us strength for the day, and bread for the day.
Daily.
I can’t stock up!
It’s like manna.
Gotta keep filling up each day. 🙂

“If your Lord call you to suffering, be not dismayed; there shall be a new allowance of the King for you when ye come to it. One of the softest pillows Christ hath is laid under His witnesses’ head, though often they must set down their bare feet among thorns.” ~Samuel Rutherford

“There is no sweeter fellowship with Christ than to bring our wounds and our sores to Him.” ~Samuel Rutherford

What room is there for troubled fear?
I know my Lord, and He is near;
And He will light my candle, so
That I may see the way to go.

There need be no bewilderment
To one who goes where he is sent;
The trackless plain by night and day
Is set with signs lest he should stray.

My path may cross a waste of sea,
But that need never frighten me;
Or rivers full to very brim,
But they are open ways to Him.

My path may lead through woods at night,
Where neither moon nor any light
Of guiding star or beacon shines;
He will not let me miss my signs.

Lord, grant to me a quiet mind,
That trusting Thee –for Thou art kind–
I may go on without a fear,
For Thou, my Lord, art always near.

~Amy Carmichael

Thou art the Lord who slept upon the pillow;
Thou art the Lord who soothed the furious sea;
What matter beating wind and tossing billow
If only we are in the boat with Thee?

Hold us in quiet through the age-long minute
While Thou art silent, and the wind is shrill.
Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, art in it?
Can the heart faint that waiteth on Thy will?

~Amy Carmichael

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Friday March 5, 2010

My little boy & I got to spend the day in the country. Walking along the dirt driveway, tossing dirt everywhere, hiking through the woods, watching birds & deer & ants, playing on the grass ~ so many, many fun things to do!!        

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Friday March 5, 2010

I just spent the last hour sitting here, going through pages and pages of blogs (I made it back to late summer 2009) trying to attach “tags” to all my blog entries… And now it looks like it didn’t even do anything. Grrr. A little frustrated now. 🙂 And disappointed. I was excited to make things more organized and easily accessible.

EDITED TO SAY: actually…. if you notice, I now have a “tag cloud” on the lefthand side of the blog page! So exciting. 🙂 So if you want to click around in a more themed way… feel free. 🙂

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Friday March 5, 2010

Jehovah-Rophi ~ I Am the Lord that Healeth Thee
(Exodus, xv.26)


Heal us, Emmanuel! here we are,
Waiting to feel Thy touch:
Deep-wounded souls to Thee repair
And, Saviour, we are such.

Our faith is feeble, we confess,
We faintly trust Thy word;
But wilt Thou pity us the less?
Be that far from Thee, Lord!

Remember him who once applied,
With trembling, for relief;
“Lord, I believe,” with tears he cried,
“Oh, help my unbelief!”

She too, who touch’d Thee in the press,
And healing virtue stole,
Was answer’d, “Daughter, go in peace,
Thy faith hath made thee whole.”

Conceal’d amid the gathering throng,
She would have shunn’d Thy view;
And if her faith was firm and strong,
Had strong misgivings too.

Like her, with hopes and fears we come,
To touch Thee, if we may;
Oh! send us not despairing home.
Send none unheal’d away!

~William Cowper

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Wednesday March 3, 2010

“With Feathers”

“Hope” is the thing with feathers —
That perches in the soul —
And sings the tune without the words —
And never stops — at all —

And sweetest — in the Gale — is heard —
And sore must be the storm —
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm —

I’ve heard it in the chillest land —
And on the strangest Sea —
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb — of Me.

~Emily Dickinson~

Today I cry with Job, “Oh that I might have my request, and that God would fulfill my hope” (Job 6:8), for I am clinging to a hope which is not seen; “hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees?” (Romans 8:24). But the Lord is my hope, and He is my strength & salvation. No matter what He does to me (and for me), His praise will remain in my mouth and hidden in my heart. With Job, may I proclaim with believing faith: “Though He slay me, I will hope in Him; yet I will argue my ways to His face” (Job 13:15).

“To Hope”

When by my solitary hearth I sit,
When no fair dreams before my – mind’s eye – flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head.

Whene’er I wander, at the fall of night,
Where woven boughs shut out the moon’s bright ray,
Should sad Despondency my musings fright,
And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away,
Peep with the moon-beams through the leafy roof,
And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof.

Should Disappointment, parent of Despair,
Strive for her son to seize my careless heart;
When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air,
Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart:
Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright,
And fright him as the morning frightens night!

Whene’er the fate of those I hold most dear
Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow,
O bright-eyed Hope, my morbid fancy cheer;
Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow:
Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!

Should e’er unhappy love my bosom pain,
From cruel parents, or relentless fair;
O let me think it is not quite in vain
To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air!
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!

In the long vista of the years to roll,
Let me not see our country’s honour fade:
O let me see our land retain her soul,
Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom’s shade.
From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed –
Beneath thy pinions canopy my head!

Let me not see the patriot’s high bequest,
Great Liberty! how great in plain attire!
With the base purple of a court oppress’d,
Bowing her head, and ready to expire:
But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings
That fill the skies with silver glitterings!

And as, in sparkling majesty, a star
Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud;
Brightening the half veil’d face of heaven afar:
So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud,
Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed,
Waving thy silver pinions o’er my head.

~John Keats, 1815~

Steven and I are seeking to “…rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Romans 5:3-5). I am thankful, looking at this passage right now, for the confident knowledge I have that God’s love has been poured into my heart by the Holy Spirit — hope does not put me to shame! So often, I feel ashamed and humiliated by my physical/emotional difficulties borne from the burden of losing my babies — but I have hope in the Lord & [although somewhat flickering] hope for the future. And I will not be put to shame. Amen & hallelujah!

May we not grow weary in our prayers or in our efforts. May we have the faith of Abraham, of whom Paul said, “in hope he believed against hope” (Romans 4:18). May we, as Abraham, not lose our hope or weaken our faith when we consider our bodies (Romans 4:19) and the trials we face. Of course we have not been personally promised that our offspring would be as the stars in the sky — yet we feel called to produce children for the Kingdom, be it in Heaven or on the earth, and we can only move forward according to the call of God and the wisdom He gives us at any given time. Therefore, may we bold in seeking the face of our Father, bold in pursuing what means we must for physical fruitfulness, and bold in clinging to hope for more children in the Kingdom on earth. May we have no distrust to cause us to waver concerning God’s covenantal promises to us, and may we grow strong in faith as we give glory to God!! (Romans 4:20) May our faith be a witness to the world of God’s covenant-keeping love (His hesed), and to His power in our weakness. May it be accounted to us as righteousness (Romans 4:22-25).

“Safe In The Father’s Arms”

Far away from fear and death
Do my children play;
Never to know the sting of sin
On their spotless soul;
Never to know a single tear
Nor stab of searing pain.

In the Father’s arms are they,
His face do they behold.
In arms of tender comfort
They rest in loving cheer;
Salty taste of tears
Never to crease their face;
Not burnt by scorching sun
Nor chilled by thunderous storms.
Untouched by earthly shadows
And haunting pangs of night,
They giggle in golden warmth
And snuggle in contented glee.

Lifted higher than dreams can go,
They soar above
The failings of earth
And thrive in the love
Of the Father
Whose tender grace sparkles
And wondrous ways smile
With endless delight.

Yet my arms feel empty.
With painful chest
I long to hold them
To my breast;
To see their smiling faces
And ease my painful fears.
Yet this I know:
They are safe
In the Master’s care.
And I shall see them face to face
And hold them when I’m there.

They’ve breezed their way to Paradise.
How smooth their getting there;
So free from blame and shame.
More pain than them I’ve known,
Yet our destiny’s the same.
Their journey there was easy;
Long and hard is mine.
But whether quick or long,
We will meet again.

Till then, my loves, rest easy.
Behold his face and rejoice
Without a single fear.
I shall come to you some day
And you shall dry my tears,
As I weep in joy
To see your cheery face.
And even now at times
I think I hear your giggles,
But rest, my loves, in his arms,
Till I am with you there.

~unknown~

Romans 15:13
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing,
so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
Posted on

Sunday February 28, 2010

Greetings, Femina girls!!
It’s a pleasure to “meet” you (feel free to say hello) and share some blog hopping with you all today.
I love to glance at Mrs. Wilson’s (et al) blog on a regular basis – and frequently share links and excerpts right here on my own blog.
When I was younger, my family attended Pastor Wilson’s church, and we gleaned many things firsthand from their beautiful family. I continue to be thankful for the gleanings God provides through the distance, although I now live elsewhere & attend a different CREC church. The Lord is kind to give books, email, blogs, and sermon tapes (I guess they’re cds these days, huh?).

PSALM 134
Come, bless the LORD, all you servants of the LORD,
who stand by night in the house of the LORD!
Lift up your hands to the holy place
and bless the LORD!
May the LORD bless you from Zion,
He who made heaven and earth!

Posted on

Sunday February 28, 2010

If thou but suffer God to guide thee
 And hope in Him through all thy ways,
 He'll give thee strength, whate'er betide thee,
 And bear thee through the evil days.
 Who trusts in God's unchanging love
 Builds on the Rock that naught can move.
                
 What can these anxious cares avail thee,
 These never-ceasing moans and sighs?
 What can it help if thou bewail thee
 O'er each dark moment as it flies?
 Our cross and trials do but press
 The heavier for our bitterness.
                
 Be patient and await His leisure
 In cheerful hope, with heart content
 To take whate'er thy Father's pleasure
 And His discerning love hath sent,
 Nor doubt our inmost wants are known
 To Him who chose us for His own.
                
 God knows full well when times of gladness
 Shall be the needful thing for thee.
 When He has tried thy soul with sadness
 And from all guile has found thee free,
 He comes to thee all unaware
 And makes thee own His loving care.
                
 Nor think amid the fiery trial
 That God hath cast thee off unheard,
 That he whose hopes meet no denial
 Must surely be of God preferred.
 Time passes and much change doth bring
 And sets a bound to everything.
                
 All are alike before the Highest;
 'Tis easy to our God, we know,
 To raise thee up, though low thou liest,
 To make the rich man poor and low.
 True wonders still by Him are wrought
 Who setteth up and brings to naught.
                
 Sing, pray, and keep His ways unswerving,
 Perform thy duties faithfully,
 And trust His Word, though undeserving,
 Thou yet shalt find it true for thee.
 God never yet forsook in need
 The soul that trusted Him indeed.
 ~Georg Neumark, 1640~
We didn't sing the above song today in church. But my dear friend (who was today's accompanist) played a few
verses of it for the meditation at the beginning of the service.
 I was (need I even say it?) in tears.
 What a beautiful hymn. How true. How bittersweet. How heart-wrenching.
 How I wish I could recite these words with unswerving faith.
 It's hard.
 
 It is hard to believe that God will be with me and give me strength, no matter what circumstances He brings me.
 It is hard to trust that He will bear us through these evil days.
 It is hard to be patient, awaiting His leisure.
 It is hard to have cheerful hope (especially the cheerful part).
 It is hard to even believe sometimes that my inmost wants are actually known to God (what, isn't He listening?).
 It is hard to be confident in the fact that God has not cast me off unheard in this fiery trial (when it so  often feels
like maybe He has).
 It is hard to see others receiving blessing without obvious trial and grief, and not wonder if they are then the
preferred children of God (does my heavenly Father have "favorites"?).
 It is hard to know that it is easy for God to raise up and bring low, for that simply reminds me that my
bringing-low is His will, and it is not out of His grasp to stop.
 It is hard to sing, hard to pray, hard to keep His ways; hard to perform duties faithfully; hard to trust His word.
 It is hard to believe that I, so undeserving, will find His words true for me. Even me. Even my family. Even our
broken hearts. Even our grieving souls.
 
 But it is so.
 There is no denying.
 Only Satan wants to confuse me and confound me.
 My Father wants to bring beauty from these ashes.
 
 As my husband recently said, we are being released from the immediate hot burns of grief; the Lord is pulling us
out of that particular fire (for now). But here come the hammer and tongs. He is shaping us and molding us. He is
conforming us more into the image of His Son.
 So we are grimacing, bracing for it.
 And we are eagerly awaiting the beauty on the other side of the pain.

It was hard to sing some of the songs in church today with hope and faith, without my voice wobbling and my eyes filling with tears…
from Psalm 34: In every time I’ll always bless the LORD; His praise will ever be within my mouth… O fear the LORD, all you He has redeemed! For those who fear Him never suffer want. Young lions hunger; they may lack their food; But those who seek the LORD shall have no want.
from “Blessed Jesus, At Thy Word”: Open Thou our ears and heart; Help us by Thy Spirit’s pleading; Hear the cry Thy people raises; Hear and bless our prayers and praises… Grant that we Thy Word may trust And obtain true consolation…
from “The Son of God Goes Forth to War”: A noble army, men and boys, The matron and the maid, Around the Savior’s throne rejoice, In robes of light arrayed… O God, to us may grace be giv’n To follow in their train!

Today, as on other Sabbath days, I was allowed to worship in Spirit and in Truth. I went to the Heavenly Jerusalem today, to worship at the feet of Jesus. I brought my joys and my brokenness. And He did not turn me away. He fed me. He gave me His own body in broken bread and spilt wine.
And (just one other icing-on-the-cake reason to love it) I got to fellowship with my children. All six of them. We were together as a complete family, as on no other day of the week. And we praised together.

It is hard sometimes to sing certain words – either I know their truths too deeply, or I feel I perhaps will never deeply enough feel their truths (a bit of each usually).

I love reciting the Creeds. Especially the parts about looking for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.
I look forward to Heaven.
Probably moreso than many other young women.
But as Samuel Rutherford puts it (sorry for the paraphrase), I just have more jewels in Heaven now, and simply more reasons to exult when it is my time to join them.
Elisabeth Elliot said, ” I wonder if one of the reasons God doesn’t give us more clues about what heaven is going to be like is that we would never manage to keep our minds on our work if we knew. It would be like telling little children ahead of time where the Christmas presents are hidden. ” (Be Still My Soul, pg 142). I think it’s true! Because today I feel like Christmas is coming, and I can’t wait to start ripping off the bows and peeling away the layers of paper to see what beautiful secrets are itching to be uncovered.