My heart is heavy. Between Ferguson, world upheaval, ebola, friends back home who have desperately prayed for their child’s life, and others who are wondering “why” about their situation… there is so much struggle. So much pain.
I have several posts in mind about our journey to Asia, but I want to write about the things that matter, about the things that are hitting deep. My words will not do justice to what I feel and think at the moment, but here is my feeble attempt.
This is my mother and child necklace, with a birthstone for each of my four children. As my kids and I walk the streets of Shanghai, bystanders ask “San ge?” incredulously. Three of them? All yours?
Yes! I will gladly claim all three of my kids, and yet we are missing one. Our first.
I was eight weeks pregnant, expectant and joyful, waiting to tell our families until my first doctor’s appointment. Josh and I went out to a movie for my birthday and got to bed late. That night, I awoke to massive cramps and bleeding. I remember sitting in the bathroom, sobbing as I realized what was happening, while Josh, unable to help me, tried to get some sleep.
The calls to our families the next morning were bittersweet. “I was pregnant… but the baby died.” My mom gave me good solace and wisdom, saying, “Never say that you lost the baby. It’s not your fault.”
Josh and I bonded in this, our first big challenge as a married couple. We grieved, we wept, we loved a child that we never held. Even now I wish that I could have seen that baby for a moment and told her that I loved her.
In the midst of the doctor’s appointments that day, the tears and sense of deep loss, God gave us hope. I can’t explain it. There was no good answer to the question, “Why?” There were rational explanations, physiological explanations, but no explanation to satisfy the ache.
And yet, I had hope. It was not a peace per say, or a resignation to reality. It was an expectation for the future and an assurance of God’s goodness. I knew that something beautiful could, and would, grow out of the ashes.
After all, this is what Jesus Christ came for. The prophet Isaiah describes Jesus: “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion – to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”
Miscarriages in particular are awkward because there is little public space to grieve. There is no funeral and few people share this private experience with others. But Josh and I chose to make room for remembering. We named our baby Xiwang (Hope). Josh bought my necklace with her birthstone. We would not pretend it didn’t happen or that it wasn’t painful, but we would remember and expect God’s goodness.
My dear friends throughout the world, much of what you are going through is significantly harder than my experience. I wish I could sit down with you face to face, listen to you, and cry with you. You are courageous, and you are my heroes. I don’t have platitudes for you because nice words will not satisfy your ache. As my friend and colleague Rick Mattson says, evil is not a respecter of persons. We live in a battlefield where there is disease, death, hatred, and it hits all of us in different ways whether we have been “good” or “bad”. No one is exempt. No, what you are going through or what your loved one is going through is NOT fair. Satan doesn’t care about fairness. He is not just.
So where is hope? The Bible speaks frequently of suffering and hope linked together. If you are in a place of hurt, I ask God to fill you with hope. He loves to give us good gifts like that. Psalms 42 and 43 are raw songs of grief and hope. I wish for you, like the author/s of these psalms, the space to grieve, to be honest, to remember what God has done for you, and to renew your trust in Him. Know that Jesus Christ has felt EVERYTHING that you are feeling and is not a stranger to suffering. May something beautiful grow out of your ashes.
Although we are in the battle, the war has already been won. God’s kingdom has broken through into the world through Jesus. Evil and injustice will be eradicated when Christ returns. Some days, I just long for Christ to come and set things right, for tears and pain to be wiped away.
In the meantime, those of us who are followers of Jesus Christ get to be His ambassadors to bring hope into the world, to give folks a little taste of what the fullness of God’s kingdom will be like.
If you are a Christian reading this, who is God asking you to bring hope to today? It may be your own child. It may be your spouse. It may be a friend. It may be someone you’ve never met. It may be an entire people group. You can’t be everything to everyone, but you can make a difference for someone. Be their financial contributor. Be their cheerleader. Be their safe place. Be their prayer warrior. Be their advocate.
Final words: “May our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by His grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and word.” 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17