Consolation & Desolation

For a long time, I’ve been wanting to write about how “a little bit goes a long way.” For months, years really, we’ve had countless people come up to us and tell us they’re praying for our family.  “We pray for you every night.” “We haven’t forgotten your family. We’re still praying for you daily!”  “Still praying that God’ll expand your family.” “We walked that road and there’s hope.”  Their encouragement keeps us going.  Their affirmations keep us hopeful.  Their companionship keeps us uplifted.  Their consolations carry us through the dark days of desolation.

This week, life threw one of its biggest challenges at me. I felt like a rookie batter staring down a veteran closer during a playoff game… in overtime. (Pretty sure I struck out swinging, but I sure didn’t go down without a fight.) I was out of my comfort zone, stretched beyond what I thought I was capable of, and totally out of my league.

You see, I walked with a friend this week as her younger sister chose to abort her child. I stood outside Planned Parenthood praying for over  three hours and watched countless women go into that clinic (and don’t say they were going for mammograms… if you’re at all educated you know Planned Parenthood does NOT do mammograms.) I waited. I hoped. I wept.
It was like salt in an open wound… knowing we’d do ANYTHING to expand our family, and would gladly adopt any of these babies in a heartbeat. But that’s exactly what was stopping that day… heartbeats. And not by chance or some fault of our flawed bodies. But by the hands of sinful men and women who exercise their God-given free will to kill & end a life.

A wise woman reminded me this week that “God is too much of a gentleman to strip us of our free will.” And in His love and respect for us, He gives us to freedom to choose to sin and pierce his heart to the core. I felt like I entered into that pain with Him this week. My heart was pierced and all I was offered was bitter wine. I found myself praying just as Jesus said on Calvary, “Father, forgive them. They know not what they do.” But still, at the end of it all, I was heartbroken.

It did dawn on me, though, that in light of our free will, it means all the more to the Lord when we choose to love & obey Him. His joy is unending because we’re not loving and choosing Him as puppets governed by a puppeteer, but rather as persons exercising their free will and recognizing the goodness that IS the Love of the Father! Like a dear priest friend once told me, “with a great capacity to love is a great capacity to feel pain.”  Even in suffering and death, there is love and life through Jesus. Just as he bled and died on the cross, there was solidarity – and He was not alone. Mary and John stood at His side.

Which brings me back to what I originally set out to write about.  Consolations.  The Ukrainians have a saying that means “solemn joy.”  They as a country and as a people have been literally plowed over, kicked while they’re down, spat upon, rejected and oppressed.  Yet they have the joy of their faith.  They may not often show it on their faces or in words, but they reflect appreciation for God’s provisions and blessings by how they live their lives.  Gratitude reigns supreme in their hearts and they give until it hurts.  Solemn Joy – I experienced that this week.

For as much as my heart was hurting this week and I felt like I was in utter desolation, the consolation the Lord provided for me on the eve of this October Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month, is one I WILL NEVER FORGET.

My dear friend Liz just did a family photo shoot for us a few weeks back… for free.  She’d tell you that we were doing her a favor by allowing her to test the lighting in a particular park and by not being afraid of going in the tall grasses and getting dirty.  I tell you, she was being her incredibly generous and thoughtful self!  Fast forward as she’s sending us these gorgeous moments she captured and I’m already in awe.  Well, as we approached Oct 1st, the three year “angel-versary” of our Baby Providence, she gave us THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIFT and THE FIRST TRUE FAMILY PHOTO WE’VE EVER HAD.

As you can see in the picture, there are four shadows… one shadow to represent Baby Mickey, the baby we miscarried before having LJ, and three shadows to represent Babies Moriah, Providence, and Hope, the three we miscarried consecutively after LJ was born.  This came one night after LJ was persistently asking to SEE his siblings and one week after LJ asked “which of our babies is my littlest sister?”  He misses them just like Jake and I do.  He grieves the loss just like we do, only he’s not even five and can’t comprehend WHY he can’t see them.  Thanks to Liz, now he can ❤  SOLEMN JOY.

Just as I entered in to the pain God feels when we choose to turn away from Him, I also felt the immense LOVE of God through a friend who choose to go out of her way to show us loving kindness.  And I tell you, the consolation was so sweet!  Words fail to express how full our hearts have been since having that image in our home. Words fail to capture the permanent mark her thoughtfulness made on my heart.  Words fail to express just how refreshing that light and love were amidst the darkness and death of the week.  But a picture speaks a thousand words!

Thank you, Liz.  Thank you all for walking this road with us.