Breaking my Silence

I don’t think I’ll ever officially end my blog, but clearly I am not posting regularly anymore. This is due to many factors- mainly busyness and the new lack of naptime. Also, a sudden and tragic loss in my family has me grappling for the right words. 

I’ve always been an open book and hope that I show an honest and vulnerable look at what it’s like to be a Christian, a mother and a trailing spouse. But lately certain things have felt a bit too hard and too personal to spill my guts over. I’m sure with distance and perspective, the words will come, but for now I’m just going with the motto: if you don’t have anything nice to blog, don’t blog anything at all.  

Of course our life continues to be littered with joy that I can’t wait to share, but it almost feels disrespectful and dishonest to gush about those things when my heart is hurting more than ever and my family is reeling with grief. I’ve always lived by the words ‘ fake it til you make it’, and the past 6 weeks have felt that way- just a surreal blur of going through the motions in disbelief that life indeed goes on. 

Those close to our family already know that my 19 month old nephew Titus died unexpectantly on May 18. Just typing those words make the horror of it fresh again. To make things even more impossible for my sister, she was 39 weeks pregnant at the time. She delivered a healthy baby boy less than 2 weeks  after facing every parents’ worst nightmare.  

Her family’s deep faith during the darkest grief imaginable, has been an inspiration to everyone that knows them. I went to Alabama for the funeral and then went back about 10 days later to spend time serving their family and I was just amazed that even though there were some undeniably hard moments in their household, there was also still laughter and joy. 

I’m not sure if this is normal, but I  often run worst case scenarios through my head regarding Forest. In fact, everytime I hear about a tragic situation involving a child I can’t help but envision Forest in the same circumstance. And I think: WHAT WOULD I DO? I think: I would just be a shell of myself. I think: I would never stop crying. I would never laugh again. I would wander through life completely lost and broken. 

But my sister and other faithful women who’ve gone through similar grief have shown me that this just isn’t true. That even in the face of Satan’s worst attacks, the Holy Spirit will grant us supernatural peace, comfort, joy, and faith. It doesn’t mean that those positive traits replace the profound pain and heartache we feel, but they exist alongside the hurt and help us to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

My best friend Talia lost a child at birth and she was able to come to Titus' funeral. I wept when I saw her put her hands on my sister's shoulders and say ‘Look at me. I’m still standing.’  So few people can truly relate to someone who has lost a child, but I think every parent can say it’s their biggest fear. What parent can honestly raise their hand and say they’ve never had a near miss with their child’s safety? That one more minute of distraction or one car speeding through a parking lot or one piece of hotdog too big and it could have all been otherwise? 

I’ll raise my hand and say that when Forest was 6 months old, I almost put him to bed with the plastic part of a doorstopper in his mouth. He’d just started crawling and I had no idea he’d taken one off. When I gave him his pacifier before nap time, he spit it out, which was unusual. I gave it to him again and the same thing happened. By the grace of God, I happened to spot something in his mouth and swiped it out, but if I’d put him to bed like that? Who knows? It’s 3 years later and I STILL replay that moment in my mind. Not because I hold myself to some impossible parenting vigilance standard, but because it made me realize how fragile life is, and how swiftly something so small and accidental could steal it away. 

How can we protect our children from things we don’t even know are dangerous? We can’t. All we can do is do our best and know that our best is still inadequate sometimes. From that day on I pray over Forest every single night: Lord, protect him. But also: Lord, Your will be done. That second piece of the prayer is so hard sometimes. 

How could His good and perfect will ever end up with our hearts being shattered? I know the Sunday school answer but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me angry and confused and hurt. The Lord is our father! He is our parent. I think of my parents who not only are grieving the loss of their precious and sweet grandson, but watching their daughter go through the worst disaster any of us have every faced. And they can’t do anything to protect her. They can’t give her rest or comfort. They can’t make it better. And I see how much that tears them apart and then I think about how much more God loves her than her earthly parents ever could. I see how He’s giving her rest and comfort when no one else can.  I see how He’s providing small mercies to her family and how His church is enveloping them and being the hands and feet of Jesus for them. 

Their newest angel.

And while we may never understand how He can sit back and watch our worlds crumble, we know and trust that ultimately it’s for His purpose and glory. And that this world is temporary; a flash in the pan compared with eternity. And that the Lord is a faithful and patient parent to us, and no matter how painful it is, he’s reminding us constantly to not grow attached to this world, not even to the pure and Godly joy we may find here, and instead to obsessively fix our eyes on a future in Heaven with Him. 

Because as much as it hurts us to lose a child, it hurts Him immeasurably more to lose one of us. I’ve noticed a pattern in my life that the most faithful and decent people I know are the ones who are tested the most. I honestly believe that God uses the faith they show in their darkest hours to inspire the rest of us. I know that through their parents’ faith, Titus and Aubrey’s lives will both have a lasting impact and the Holy Spirit will continue to use their testimonies to stir people’s hearts. 

So that’s just a glimpse of what’s been on my mind and heart while I’ve been absent from the blogosphere. I do hope to post a few things soon about our trip to Colorado, Forest's transition to the big boy bed (!!) and a trip to Milwaukee (told ya we’ve been busy lately).