I know this sounds awful, but I have honestly not been looking forward to Christmas Day this year. I feel stuck in the waiting between missing and longing... what I mean by that is my life constantly feels like I'm waiting for something *more* to happen. I miss Lily so much at Christmas. And I long for a family of my own to spend Christmas with.
I wish my girl were here for what would be her SIXTH Christmas this year. It's hard to believe how many years it's been, yet my heart misses her the same as I wonder who she'd be this December and what gifts I'd be giving her, based on what would have been things she'd like that I'll never know. In the heaviness, I must remind myself she's with the One whom Christmas is all about.
My brother and his wife will be with her family for Christmas. My sister will be spending some of the day with her boyfriend and his family. We aren't going to Virginia for Christmas to be with my grandmother and other extended family. So, it'll just be me, my other brother, and our parents.
For these reasons and others, the missing and the longing feel especially highlighted this Christmas season.
As I have been attending my own little pity party, I came across something I underlined in one of my favorite books called "Glenda's Story: Led by Grace" by Glenda Revell.
She wrote: "Satan gains a foothold when a person believes that those things he desires and for which he longs (but is denied) are "in some mysterious sense, his personal birthright." This explains why holidays are so much more difficult than ordinary days when spent in any type of suffering or pain. If at no other time, don't we deserve to be happy at Christmas? Or on our birthday or anniversary? Satan would have us think so. For at the moment we begin to believe we have a right to something that we have been denied, we become miserable, despondent, and angry."
When I read this, I felt big time convicted. I have been miserable this Christmas season because I am in pain and I feel God is for some reason choosing to withhold from me that which would take away my pain. Don't people deserve to feel happy at Christmas?
I think it's understandable that I am missing and longing, especially during the Christmas season, a time of year that focuses on family and joy.
But in my Christmas-missing-and-longing, I have become consumed with feeling deprived by the God who sent His own Son as a precious baby who would grow up to die on the cross, a ransom for all mankind. That, my friends, is what Christmas is about. It isn't about my happiness or my dreams coming true. It isn't about me getting what I deserve, thank God... because what I deserve is not happiness, a godly husband, and healthy children. What I deserve is hell. But because of the sweet baby named Jesus that was sent all those years ago, I don't get what I deserve. I have the hope and certainty that Lily is safe in the arms of that same Jesus... for eternity. I have the hope of spending eternity with them both. I have the hope for a beautiful future, whether that includes a husband and more children or not. I know it will be beautiful because it will be written by the Author of all things beautiful. I have parents who love me, a cozy home with gifts under an adorable Christmas tree, and siblings who I will celebrate with at some point, even if not on Christmas Day.
I have many, many blessings and they can all be enjoyed because of the baby whose birth we celebrate on Christmas. As I ache this week in the waiting between missing and longing, may I remember Him and choose to keep my gazed fixed on sweet baby Jesus in the manger.
A blog reader/friend of mine named Tina emailed me a couple weeks ago with something sweet and encouraging, so I want to share part of it here (I left out some of her more personal things). Tina also has a baby daughter who was stillborn who is also named Lilly (just with two l's rather than one like my Lily's name is spelled)
This is what she wrote:
I thought of you one recent morning when I looked out and saw a fresh dusting of snow on our deck table. I felt compelled to write your daughter's name in the pure white snow...then I wrote our daughter's name too.
You can derive so much meaning out of the photos.
*Of course the first thing to see is the purity of our daughters that matches their names.
*Another thing that I see is that the chairs are empty. I put one chair in the photo of your Lily's name, representing you...and two chairs in the photo with both of our daughter's names in it, representing both of us. We share in the great loss of our daughters.
WE became physically empty of our daughters IN their death...both on the inside AND on the outside.
*Less than an hour later, the snow had all melted, leaving behind puddles of water on the table. This represents the brief lives of our daughters.
In a moment (on another "table") we were told that their was no heart beat and the beautiful dreams (with our daughters) evaporated just like the snow, leaving behind puddles of tears that we have shed and are still shedding.
*Though the table is made of glass, it is solid and it holds our tears well. The solidness of the table and the transparency of the glass is like our faith in Jesus Christ. For "now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1. We have THE solid and true Lord and Saviour to lean on and to cry it all out too. Though we cannot take a photo (evidence) of our Lord Jesus, He IS SO VERY present. He is so very REAL. HE is not a dream that will ever vanish from us. He has not left us comfortless.
John 14:1-3 - "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also."
God was SPEAKING to us with words...HIS words...from HIS WORD! I love John 14. Later on these words are written....
"Jesus answered and said unto him, If a man love me, he will keep my words: and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him. He that loveth me not keepeth not my sayings: and the word which ye hear is not mine, but the Father's which sent me. These things have I spoken unto you, being yet present with you. But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you. Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. Ye have heard how I said unto you, I go away, and come again unto you. If ye loved me, ye would rejoice, because I said, I go unto the Father: for my Father is greater than I." (verses 23-28)
Let not your heart be troubled.
My heart was not troubled with our child's "whereabouts." I KNEW that she was with Jesus. But my heart was most certainly in agony. I found myself comforted in the knowledge that God was taking swift notice of our loss and that He was communicating with us through people and through HIS very Word!!! His Holy Ghost was moving and working very clearly. I was further comforted with what the Holy Ghost was bringing to my remembrances. One thing that I was clinging to...and still cling to...is that Jesus is a man of sorrow. He knows all about it! Praise to the Lord.
So often we who are traversing this journey of loss are finding our grief wanting. We want and need to express our grief ON something. The memories of our child are few and we seem to come up to the edge of expressing it fully through something tangible...and we can come up so empty...like the chairs in the photos...like the emptiness of the table. As the mother, our loss cuts extra deep because our loss is physically internal as well as physically external. WE were representing our child in body as our bodies grew with our child. We were getting to know them while they were on the inside...feeling their movements and the weight of them. We were dreaming of their lives on the outside.
My point being, we are NOT left without comfort. God is still moving and doing MIGHTY things. Jesus Christ is the way to TRUE comfort and to the peace that passes all understanding. We can fly to Him and lay our weary heads on His chest. We can spill our hearts out to Him...and furthermore, He WANTS us to!
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I am thankful for friends who "get it." I am thankful for those who meet me where I am and point me to Jesus there. I love my pure Lily's name written in the pure white snow and Tina's reflections on it all. It makes me smile that she thought of Lily when she saw the snow.
I am amazed at how God has been revealing Himself to me in multiple ways lately as my Comforter. I was recently reflecting upon and even wrote about this very attribute of the Holy Spirit. And then I got this email. And then I came across a beautiful song about Him being our Comforter that I've been playing on repeat. I'll leave you all with that (email subscribers click HERE).
Tomorrow is the day when I will no longer need to refer to my niece OR nephew. My brother and sister-in-law have their gender-reveal scan, at just shy of half-way through the pregnancy.
Honestly, the last few weeks, my heart has been dreading the news. I know no child will ever replace Lily's spot as the eldest grandchild, however, I also realize that in a way, this child will replace many of the the firsts we would have experienced with her. That's just the way it is. Nobody is trying to be hurtful in it, it's just what happens as a result of Lily's death. So though I realize and am thankful that her status as first will not be taken away, the firsts of her life growing up on earth will be.
That's hard to think about any child being the first besides her... but especially a girl. I have strongly felt like this baby is a boy, maybe partly because I want it to be and partly because I know Joseph has talked about how sweet it would be to have his eldest child be a boy, to watch out for his little sisters. My guess was that it would be one baby, which I was right about (we wondered since Joseph is a twin and Kala is a triplet), and that it'll be a boy. But who knows?? Only God until tomorrow.
What makes the possibility of the baby being a girl so difficult for my heart is because things with a girl would be even more a reminder of everything we missed and are still missing with Lily. Any gender has similar baby experiences, but there are of course things specific to each gender... the bows, the pink, all that makes life with a little girl full of "sugar and spice and everything nice." I've asked God to please let this baby be a boy, to soften the ache in my heart. It's already hard enough, so can't He help me out here a little?
Only those who have lost a child understand the inner turmoil in such things as this.
I don't want to be selfish in my thoughts or feelings. I just wish the way my brain worked in things like this could melt away from me forever.
Last week, I begged God to help me. I pleaded with Him to change my heart, to take away my sadness about Lily in this and to allow me to fully embrace this season and rejoice over this new precious life. I told Him that I know it's only Him who can alter my natural inclinations of feeling the way I do. Only He can make me excited. Only He can mend my heart and take away the sting of hearing the news if this baby is a girl. I want to be a wonderful aunt, able to give of my heart fully to this baby, not reserved in any way, because he/she deserves that! Joseph and Kala deserve that.
A few days ago, I was walking past the baby section at Target and some adorable pink girly things caught my attention. I was thinking about how adorable these items were and made a mental note that I'd like to get them if we find out the baby is a girl. And in that moment I saw what God had done... He was opening my heart to this baby being a girl. He was making me okay if he/she is a girl. I need to be okay with it before they find out the gender. How easy it would be to say I am okay with it after finding out the baby is a boy. God wanted to show me He is enough for me in this, no matter what the gender is, just as He's been enough for me in everything I've faced in my life without Lily. He is fully capable of giving me a new heart, with new feelings! If only I will entrust them to Him, surrender, and pray.
He gave me the grace when I learned the news that this baby was on the way, something I had feared. I wondered why I was struggling after being okay with the news. But that's when He showed me that He gives me today's strength for today. And I cannot depend on yesterday's or tomorrow's strength for today. He meets me in the moment I'm in and sustains me there.
I cannot explain the joy I feel in witnessing Him transforming my heart, my thoughts, and feelings. I am eagerly and excitedly awaiting finding out this baby's gender and will truly be pleased as punch, boy or girl! I cannot wait to meet that baby and hold him/her in my arms. But until that day, I want to be there for Kala and Joseph, helping them make beautiful pregnancy memories, like taking maternity photos, and getting a belly cast... all the important things I wish I had done with Lily. All things she taught me the importance and beauty of and because of her, they will have the things I never did. There are so many things I am seeing that I want to buy or make for my niece or nephew. My Father in Heaven, thank You for giving me Your love for this precious child whom You adore!
Read the first post I wrote about Lily's cousin by clicking HERE.
Lately I have been meditating on Psalm 147:3-4 which says, "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars; He gives to all of them their names." I recently came across this Elisabeth quote: "Have you noticed those two verses in Psalm 147 that juxtapose God's concern for the wounded *and* His numbering and naming the stars? His compassion and His power are mentioned together that we might understand that the Lord of the Universe is not so preoccupied with the galaxies that He cannot stoop to minister to our sufferings. He is the One who is in sovereign control of our lives, and of every single thing that touches them. Nothing can pass through the fortress of His love." -Elisabeth Elliot I then saw this beautiful watercolor print from GraceLaced (she shared on Instagram that she was having a Black Friday sale) and knew I wanted it on my wall as a daily reminder of this precious truth.
After coming across the verse many times recently, it's become quite special to me and something I think Jesus wants me to remember.
I shared this on my Facebook page on Saturday. Then, later in the day, my sister-in-law and I were out Christmas shopping and I was planning on searching for an ornament for Lily Katherine, something I like to do each year in her honor. I was thinking of a particular ornament shop we could go to at the mall later in the evening.
We were at the Vintage Village in a store I didn't even think to look in for the ornament when I glanced up and saw this beautiful angel ornament hanging there, like it was waiting for me.
Because of Psalm 147, stars are significant to me and make me think of that verse. I knew right away it was the perfect ornament for this year because it's an angel, which obviously reminds me of Heaven where Lily is, she's wearing a pearl headband, and pearls symbolize purity which both Lily's first and middle names mean, and she's holding a star.
The God who created and named the stars created and named my little girl and cares enough about both me and her to send me an ornament with a star. He knew how it would speak clearly to my heart that He ministers to me in my missing her, especially around times like Christmas. "The Lord of the Universe is not so preoccupied with the galaxies" that He cannot show His love by sending His child to a simple Christmas ornament. I didn't even have to look for it. He carries me in my pain, He carries it for me.
And not only that, but it is a reminder that Lily's death didn't "pass through the fortress of His love." He has always been in control of my life and hers. Nothing touches me apart from what He allows.
All this reminds me of a beautiful song by Chris Tomlin where he sings, "He holds the stars and He holds my heart." (email subscribers click HERE to listen to the song).
Lily's Auntie Kala and I were out shopping on Saturday. We got planners for the new year at Barnes & Noble (mine has cats on it). :)
Kala's has pretty flowers on it with a couple pages of fun stickers, with things on them such as "doctor appointment" and "birthday."
As she was looking through them on our drive home, she said, "this one says 'special day' and it has a flower on it. It's perfect for Lily's birthday."
Yes, it is perfect. And it's even more perfect that she thought of her and said that to me.
This is my planner with stickers she shared with me.
Many times I have spoken and written about how my family, especially my parents, truly walked out their pro-life convictions by welcoming me and Lily both home during my unplanned pregnancy. God showered His grace and love on me through them.
I am blessed and thankful to have my family, all of them. They loved my daughter, even though she wasn't "planned." I know some families would view a child "like Lily" as a burden, even attempting to manipulate and push abortion as the best option. Never once did my family do that. Lily was loved, absolutely adored, from the moment her life was known. Now, that is not to say they didn't wish it was under better circumstances that were honoring to God, however, we are all forever thankful for how the Lord used Lily's life in our lives. And life is always a gift. No child is ever unplanned by God, unwanted by Him, or viewed as less than or as an inconvenience. A baby is not a sin.
I hear some people talk about how their families don't "count" their baby in Heaven, don't talk about them, include them, celebrate them on their birthday, etc. And it makes me realize just how blessed I am to have a family who does love, honor, miss, and count Lily. I spend too much time noticing how people don't measure up to how I want them to honor Lily and help me through my grief. It's true they might not always do or say what I wish they would... but the fact is, they cannot understand exactly what I feel or need because 1) they have never lost a child and 2) they aren't me... They love her in their own way.
My family walked out their pro-life convictions in Lily's life... but honestly what I'm finding is they did so even more in her death... Their love for her and understanding of the sanctity of life was even more pronounced in their depth of weeping when she was buried on that day in late March 2010 (I will never forget how my brother Adam cried in a way I have never seen), in how they celebrate her birthday with me each March 16th, in their sensitivity in how they try to understand best they can what I'm feeling and what I need, in always explaining when asked, that there was another grandchild that came before the baby Allen due next spring, in wanting to visit her "special spot" with me when we're in Virginia, in not being afraid to speak her name - not in a tense and awkwardly forced sort of way, but just normal, because she is a part of the family, in not making me feel like I should stop missing and loving Lily as other people try to make me feel, but entering into my pain and love with me, because they feel it as well, in being gracious and compassionate with me, even when I do get overly emotional and don't always make sense. Her absence is recognized because her value was first.
That, my friends, is what being pro-life looks like.
I don't want to be the only one who remembers and loves her the way I know I always will. Even if it was only me, that would be enough. Even when I am gone from this world and Lily is truly forgotten on Earth, by that point, I will actually be WITH her in Heaven, with the God who created her and could never forget or forsake her.
I think what I am afraid of is her being erased in people's minds and hearts, gone from this world. Her little girl laughter and chatter is not present in our everyday lives, yet her legacy and memory is ever-present for me. I am the only one who felt her kick, felt her life. She wasn't just an idea of a baby. She wasn't a potential life. I felt her life and her spirit. She will never be just a memory for me, but always my cherished daughter.
Even if she were erased from every heart and mind in this world, she cannot and will not EVER be erased from Eternity. She is there and she is not going anywhere. She is an eternal being, an eternal flower as I have written before. Though her life here feels like it was erased, a life I attempt to see through the hazy lines of what could have been... I know that her life there, the place my heart longs for, my true home, will never disappear, erase, be forgotten. It is there where the hazy and unclear lines will be filled in - clear and full-of-color will they be, as the life she never lived here will be perfectly lived out there.
As John Piper wrote in a letter to a mother whose son was stillborn:
"First, please know that I know I don't know what it is like to give birth to a lifeless body. Only a small, sad band of mothers know that. I say "lifeless body" because, as you made clear, your {daughter} is not lifeless. {She} simply skipped earth. For now. But in the new heavens and the new earth, {she} will know the best of earth and all the joys earth can give without any of its sorrows."
