A New Song to Sing!

¹ I waited patiently for the Lord to help me,
    and he turned to me and heard my cry.
² He lifted me out of the pit of despair,
    out of the mud and the mire.
He set my feet on solid ground
    and steadied me as I walked along.
³ He has given me a new song to sing,
    a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see what he has done and be amazed.
    They will put their trust in the Lord.

-Psalm 40: 1-3

I indeed have a "new song to sing!" Christian and I are expecting our fourth child in October! We are thrilled and feel so blessed that the Lord has given us this miracle. We were told that we would never conceive naturally, and yet we have. God is all-powerful and much bigger than science or our doubt.

For those of you who don't know, Christian and I struggled with infertility for three years before conceiving Maggie.  I took all the medications, ran all the tests, had two surgeries and did multiple rounds of in vitro fertilization to get our little Magpie. We were elated and thankful to have Maggie but wanted to have more children if possible.  We did two more rounds of IVF, miscarried and then on our third round we got pregnant with the boys! From that cycle we froze the three remaining embryos.  In October we transferred two embryos and were pregnant for a week before miscarrying.

Until John's diagnosis, infertility was the biggest struggle of my life.  I have experienced more sorrow at times but infertility was the most alone I ever felt. It is heartbreaking to live month-to-month and go through intense periods of hope and disappointment.  Having the strong, God-given desire to be a mom and not have it happen brings you to your knees and breaks many marriages apart.  It is also confusing and hard on our husbands. As I type this I am praying for all couples I know struggling with infertility.  I hope you will join me in lifting up the couples around you yearning for their first baby or a sibling for their child.

Looking back I can see so many important lessons I learned in our season of infertility.  My genuine belief in God's goodness, come-what-may, was developed during those three years. I was also taught a great deal about patience and God's timing versus my own.  It was during this time that I discovered that there is a Bible passage to minister to every situation. I read the story of Hannah in 1 Samuel so many times that I was convinced that the Lord put it there just for me.  God knew women struggling with infertility would need hope and he gifted His daughters with this story. My Bible is worn on these pages and there are smudges where my tears dropped over fresh ink underlining these words:

1 There was a man named Elkanah who lived in Ramah in the region of Zuph in the hill country of Ephraim. He was the son of Jeroham, son of Elihu, son of Tohu, son of Zuph, of Ephraim. ² Elkanah had two wives, Hannah and Peninnah. Peninnah had children, but Hannah did not.

³ Each year Elkanah would travel to Shiloh to worship and sacrifice to the Lord of Heaven’s Armies at the Tabernacle. The priests of the Lord at that time were the two sons of Eli—Hophni and Phinehas. ⁴ On the days Elkanah presented his sacrifice, he would give portions of the meat to Peninnah and each of her children. ⁵ And though he loved Hannah, he would give her only one choice portion because the Lord had given her no children. ⁶ So Peninnah would taunt Hannah and make fun of her because the Lord had kept her from having children. ⁷ Year after year it was the same—Peninnah would taunt Hannah as they went to the Tabernacle. Each time, Hannah would be reduced to tears and would not even eat.

⁸ “Why are you crying, Hannah?” Elkanah would ask. “Why aren’t you eating? Why be downhearted just because you have no children? You have me—isn’t that better than having ten sons?”

⁹ Once after a sacrificial meal at Shiloh, Hannah got up and went to pray. Eli the priest was sitting at his customary place beside the entrance of the Tabernacle. ¹⁰ Hannah was in deep anguish, crying bitterly as she prayed to the Lord. ¹¹ And she made this vow: “O Lord of Heaven’s Armies, if you will look upon my sorrow and answer my prayer and give me a son, then I will give him back to you. He will be yours for his entire lifetime, and as a sign that he has been dedicated to the Lord, his hair will never be cut.”

¹² As she was praying to the Lord, Eli watched her. ¹³ Seeing her lips moving but hearing no sound, he thought she had been drinking. ¹⁴ “Must you come here drunk?” he demanded. “Throw away your wine!”

¹⁵ “Oh no, sir!” she replied. “I haven’t been drinking wine or anything stronger. But I am very discouraged, and I was pouring out my heart to the Lord. ¹⁶ Don’t think I am a wicked woman! For I have been praying out of great anguish and sorrow.”

¹⁷ “In that case,” Eli said, “go in peace! May the God of Israel grant the request you have asked of him.”

¹⁸ “Oh, thank you, sir!” she exclaimed. Then she went back and began to eat again, and she was no longer sad.

¹⁹ The entire family got up early the next morning and went to worship the Lord once more. Then they returned home to Ramah. When Elkanah slept with Hannah, the Lord remembered her plea, ²⁰ and in due time she gave birth to a son. She named him Samuel, for she said, “I asked the Lord for him.”

I am so thankful for this chapter.  This passage taught me much about the Lord: Children are given by God and it was no mistake that I did not have them yet; God recognizes how heartbreaking it is for a woman who desires children not to have them; I am to respect and consider my husband before the despair of infertility; In my disappointment and anguish I am to turn to God and pour it out to Him; I am to fully expect God to answer my prayers. 


He really does answer them and He really does still perform miracles. There is no other explanation for this tiny baby growing in my belly.

I can't help but think that my John had something to do with this. I can picture his dark curly hair and his full lips turned up in a smile with the knowledge that the Lord was going to send a little brother or sister to Maggie and Sam.  Did John watch as I fell to my knees in disbelief at the positive pregnancy test? Did he count the happy tears that streamed down my face? Did he hear my prayers of thanksgiving as they entered Heaven? Did he laugh when his Daddy didn't believe the news? I think he did. 

In our excitement, we can't help but be nervous. "Routine" blood work and ultrasounds don't feel so routine to me.  I had some tests ran this morning and I would appreciate your prayers that everything comes back fine. 

Thank you for your prayers for my family.
Love,
Krystle

Happy Birthday Boys!

Sam will be one on Friday, November 29th! We are having his birthday party tomorrow while all of our family is together for Thanksgiving.  A year has passed and I am filled with such gratitude for Sam, his health and every giggle and mess he adds to our family. His face is always dirty but also has a smile on it.  He loves to give kisses and headbutt at the same time.  He is kindhearted and rowdy.  He is all boy, all the time and I can't help but smile when he tackles his sister or climbs on top of something.  He balances out all the glitter and drama of Maggie and I can't imagine our family without him. 

I wish I could be wholly focused on the blessing of Sam this week but the truth is my heart is aching.  I miss John more intensely than I have in a while.  Just a few weeks ago I was positive that Sam's birthday party would be a happy occasion and now I'm worried that I won't be able to make it through "Happy Birthday."  It makes me feel guilty that I do not know the perfect way of celebrating Sam while honoring John.  Sam deserves a cheerful mama on his birthday and I pray I can be that for him. 

I've been on the verge of tears for four days now. It started with an ordinary incident at Target.  I was checking out and had obvious baby things in my shopping cart.  The older lady behind me asked, "How many children do you have?"  Even after a year, I still don't know what to say.  Sometimes I say, "Two, a son and a daughter." And then I feel guilty for denying John. Sometimes I say, "I have two living children and an angel." Then, I have to explain all about John and wind up making some unsuspecting stranger cry. Sometimes I say, "Three." But then they ask follow up questions and I feel like a liar for making them think I have three babies at home.  I don't know the right thing to say and it bothers me.  My heart tells me "three" is the right answer but sometimes (work event, standing in line somewhere, talking to the plumber) it doesn't feel appropriate. If you have lost a child I'd love to know your perspective and how you answer this question.

I've also been thinking a lot lately about John's ashes.  I still have them in the beautiful box my dad built.  Sometimes it bothers me that I haven't thought of the perfect thing to do with them but nothing feels right. I've thought about scattering them somewhere beautiful, having them turned into a diamond or piece of jewelry and also considered using them in a tattoo! I didn't even know you could put ashes into a tattoo until a friend told me.  I doubt I would ever do that but there is something raw and beautiful and symbolic about it. For the time being, I'll keep John's ashes close to me in my office where they have been.

Yesterday at Bible study I was sharing with Terry (our pastor friend who spoke at John's funeral) the guilt and sadness I have been feeling. I told him sometimes I feel panicked that something horrible is about to happen. We are studying Proverbs and right in front of us was Proverbs 3: 24-26:

You can go to bed without fear;
    you will lie down and sleep soundly.

You need not be afraid of sudden disaster
    or the destruction that comes upon the wicked,

for the Lord is your security.

I felt refreshed after unpacking this scripture with Terry.  
Later I read Proverbs 17:22:

A cheerful heart is good medicine,
   but a broken spirit saps a person's strength.

You cannot argue with that! My heavy heart is justified but it is also sapping my strength. I'm praying today that the Lord takes captive my thoughts, makes them obedient to Him and lifts my spirit to one of thanksgiving and celebration. Please join me in this prayer. 

I hope you have a very blessed and Happy Thanksgiving.
Thank you for your prayers!

Love, Krystle

Happy Anniversary Wonderfully Made!

I started this blog one year ago today! That is hard to believe. I can remember the night I sat down at this computer, at this desk and started writing. I did not know what I was going to write or if anyone would read it.  My heart wanted to help another mom who might hear "Thanatophoric Dysplasia" and do a web search that comes up with way too many medical journal entries on FGFR3 gene mutations and too few personal stories about miracles or the beautiful short lives of TD babies. I also wanted to document my pregnancy and delivery for Maggie and Sam so that one day when they ask me about John I can accurately recall events and emotions.  Selfishly, I also hoped that this blog would keep me from having to have the same painful conversations over and over again with family and friends after each appointment.  

I never imagined that my words here would lead to such an amazing outpouring of love and support for my family.  I have been blessed repeatedly and extravagantly by your prayers and sweet messages over the past year. From the bottom of my heart - Thank you! I was told it was unlikely I would carry to 36 weeks and I made it just a few days shy - Prayers answered! I was told that John wouldn't be strong enough to make noises and he did for several minutes - Prayers answered! I was told that Sam would more than likely have a NICU stay and he didn't - Prayers answered! You joined me in prayers to see God's goodness and feel His mercy in John's short life and I have over and over again.  In my sadness I have experienced real joy and intimacy with my God. Who can ask for more?

 "Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,

   for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

    great is your faithfulness.

I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;

    therefore I will wait for him.” 

Lamentations 3: 22-24

These days my house is louder than ever thanks to these two:

Sam is 8.5 months and a babbling, laughing, smiling snuggle bug. He is so happy and easy going.  He is starting to crawl and he loves to make messes! Maggie is 2.5 years old and loves to play dress up, read books, sing and tell everyone what to do. Where does she get that from?!? I often wonder how John would fit in with these two. Would he be more like Maggie or Sam or completely different?  Even though John isn't here, he is still very present.  We remember him in our prayers and talk about why Mama gets sad sometimes. I think of him every time I make any kind of parenting decision for Maggie and Sam.  He has made me a more flexible, loving, emotional and spontaneous parent.  In this way John continues to bless his brother and sister and I think that's pretty awesome. 

I've been listening to this song a lot lately and just wanted to share.  Eddie Vedder meant it as a love song but I imagine Christian singing it to John and it perfectly describes loving someone who is gone.

 

Love,

Krystle

Hard

I'm having a hard moment.  I just got a note in the mail from two of the wonderful nurses that cared for us on delivery day saying that they are still thinking about John and they know it has been 6 months since the boys were born. Sam and Maggie are both napping so I guess it is a convenient time to have a good cry. 

I move away or dive right in -
you are no more or less near.
I put you away then get you out again- 
no more or less near.

I talk about or talk around -
no more or less near.
I stay up all night or sleep sound -
no more or less near.

I cry the tears or choke them back -
no more or less near.
I stare at your pictures and then repack -
no more or less near.

I cannot feel more but I don't want less-
no more or less near.
I give up or I do my best -
no more or less near.

I would really appreciate your prayers for a lifted spirit this afternoon. I do not write poems but I guess in this moment the above needed to get out.  This grief is a funny thing. 

Love, Krystle

5 months

I was playing with Sam this morning and thinking of all the progress he has made in the last 5 months.  He is healthy, happy, growing like crazy, starting solids, reaching for things, making all sorts of noises and growing teeth! He is so far from November 29th and I feel like I am not. I am not sure what I was expecting from myself but I know I haven't accomplished it yet.  I have done everything I think I can do. I feel like Christian and I have successfully made the transition to having two little ones and we have Sam on a good schedule.  Maggie has adjusted remarkably well to a little brother at home and physically I'm more fit than before I got pregnant. Spiritually I feel like I'm in a healthy place of reliance on God and resilience to my circumstances.  I guess I just thought I'd emotionally be getting back to myself by now.  I look like Krystle, I sound like Krystle, I act like Krystle but I don't feel like Krystle.  I'm sure that doesn't make a whole lot of sense but it's the truth and I do not like it. I don't like it that things bother me that shouldn't.  For example, Sam has started looking more and more like Christian.... a handsome boy looking like his handsome dad! A few weeks ago my wonderful, loving sister Lene' started calling Sam, "Christian's little twin!" There is no reason that should upset me but I had to ask her to stop.  Every time I heard her reference Sam's twin it felt like someone was stabbing my heart.  I hated having to ask her to stop and I hated more how her eyes welled up with tears when I mentioned it. She would never do anything to hurt me. I was disappointed in myself that I couldn't just let it go in one ear and out the other and take it for the light-hearted comment it was intended to be.  Today I was driving and thinking about my conversation with Lene' and how little I feel like I've mended since November 29th.  My head was telling me that John is with the Lord and I should be comforted in the fact that I will see him again but I was feeling disappointed that my heart didn't feel comforted by this truth. Right then I passed a sign that said, "Faith makes it possible, not easy." It was the exact reminder I needed at the exact moment I needed it. I love it when God comforts me this way...out of the blue and using something as ordinary as a sign.   Although I feel like November 29th was so long ago, it wasn't. It was exactly 5 months ago and it is "not easy." I need to remember this and be easier on myself.  I guess with my competitive nature and Type A personality I expected to be a gold star griever and be back to myself in no time! :) I need to stop letting my perceived lack of emotional progress get in the way of my grieving process, whatever that looks like.  No one around me expects me to be exactly like I was before John went to Heaven, except me. Most importantly, the Lord doesn't expect me to be working towards being my old self. He gave me John and this heartache for a wonderful reason and that is what I need to focus on.   
"And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them." - Romans 8:28 

"Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus." - 1 Thessalonians 16-18 

"Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing." - James 1: 2-4  

"Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." - Romans 12:2

Thank you for your prayers for my family!
Love, Krystle

P.S. This is not a new song but I have been listening to it a lot lately. I feel like it perfectly describes how you can be so consumed with your emotions/grief/depression and then the next minute realize what is most important and be thankful for your life: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=al2DFQEZl4M

Mary and Comforting Tears

Ever since I became a Christ follower Easter weekend has been emotional for me.  On Good Friday I think about Jesus being treated like a criminal, mocked, brutally beaten, separated from God and killed. I always think about how unfair He was treated. On Saturday and Sunday I imagine His followers hiding out, scared for their lives, doubting and grieving over their lost friend and teacher. How hopeless must they have felt? On Sunday I usually think about how amazing it must have been to see Him risen!  The disciples must have had that winning redemption feeling! (Warning: this is not a very spiritually mature analogy) You know when you are playing in a big game and you are way behind and the other team has been trash-talking the whole time and you come back and win....WOO HOO!!! You think, "I knew we were going to win all along!" But you were really scared and doubtful. And then to get to see your teacher, friend, Abba again and know everything He said was true! Best. Day. Ever!

This Easter weekend was different for me.  On Good Friday my thoughts were consumed with Mary, the mother of Jesus. I have never read and thought about the Easter story from her perspective before and it tore me up.  I thought about the panic she must have felt when she heard the guards were coming for Him. What could she do to keep Him safe? I thought about how it must have felt to be in the crowd in front of Pontius Pilate as people yelled, "Crucify him!" This wasn't some historical figure to her, this was her child.  The hurt and agony Mary must have felt as He was stripped and whipped with a lead-tipped whip. Her baby that she cradled and nursed having His fleshed ripped apart as people cheered.  Regardless of how you feel about Christ, you cannot deny the suffering His mother must have endured watching Him bleed and be tortured.  When I imagine Mary at the foot of the cross looking up and praying that her son's chest would rise and fall just one more time, it hits way too close to home and brings me to my knees.  One thing I learned since the death of my sweet John is that your desire to mother and take care of your baby does not end with your child's life.  You still feel responsible and very protective of your baby's earthly body. Once Jesus was dead I'm sure Mary was wondering, "What now!? What are they going to do with my Jesus?"  We know from scripture that a wealthy member of the Jewish high council named Joseph went to Pilate and asked for Jesus' body.  Joseph wrapped Jesus' body in linen and placed him in his own newly carved tomb.  I wonder if Mary had anything to do with that? Regardless, she must have felt relieved and so thankful when she heard that Pilate gave her son's body to a believer and friend and that He would receive a proper burial.  After following His body to the tomb she went home with the other women and made preparations.  

The verses about Mary and the other women preparing spices and ointments take me back to the first few days after John's death.  So many decisions to make, such a desire to do everything perfectly for your beloved child, so many tears mixed with numbness, and so many loving women to help. Mothers, sisters, aunts, and girlfriends, these are the beautiful souls that help you do the sacred work of burying your baby and saying good bye.  The same women who come alongside you when you have a new baby or an illness in your family.  They think of all the things that you cannot and are extra hands to do what has to be done without you having to ask. Who else can you share your raw emotions with except those who know what it is like to love as a mother, daughter and sister?  I know Mary was readying herself to see her son's broken, cold body as she walked to the tomb early Easter morning. I'm sure she was heartbroken when she first noticed that the stone had been rolled away. Where did they take her son? The women walked inside the tomb and saw a man dressed in dazzling white robes. He told the women that Jesus was not there, He had risen! The angel said to go quickly and tell the disciples that Jesus was alive and that He was going to Galilee. They would see Him again! In that instant Mary's heartache turned to hope and joy. So much information and so many questions but none of that mattered - she would see her baby boy again! Hallelujah! Scripture says the women ran away "quickly from the tomb." I love the image of these middle-aged women in this joyous sprint.  How fast could my feet carry me to my baby? What happened next is so beautiful, just imagine it as a mother:
"And as they went, Jesus met them and greeted them.  And they ran to Him, grasped His feet, and worshiped Him." (Matthew 28:9) Praise God!

The miracle of Easter sustains me and promises me that through grace John has risen as well and through grace I will go to the Lord and John.

On Sunday, we went to church in Waco at First United Methodist with Christian's family.  As we walked in I saw a sign that said "Communion" in a little room off the lobby.  I told Christian that I'd be right back and took Maggie with me into the small room.  There was a very nice elderly women in there named Rochelle who would give me communion. She stood behind the padded kneeler and shook my hand and said, "Nice to know you!"  I loved that because that is what my Granny always said when she met someone.  I knelt down as Maggie stood next to me holding my hand. Rochelle asked if I had any prayer requests or specific concerns weighing on my heart.  I told her about John and how thankful I was for the gift of Easter but that I couldn't feel the joy in my heart as I would like to this morning.  She held my hand, patted it and prayed for me with tears streaming down her cheeks.  As she prayed Maggie stood perfectly still and quiet (which never happens) and stroked my hand with hers.  I looked up and committed the moment to memory. It was so beautiful. I was kneeling with Maggie standing beside me holding my hand with her eyes closed and Rochelle standing before me holding my other hand with both of hers as she prayed and wept with me. Two women more than 70 years apart nursing my heart and loving on me.  When Rochelle prayed, "Thank you Lord for John and for his eternal life in Heaven...." Maggie said, "With Jesus!"  We both started laughing and told her that she was right. Maggie stood through the rest of the prayer with her eyes closed and when Rochelle and I said, "Amen." Maggie yelled, "Amen! God Wins!" I will always remember that communion as a holy moment in my life.

My communion with Rochelle reminded me of a poem I read a few weeks ago on a blog that I follow called "Cheetos for Breakfast." A friend of the blogger wrote this poem after losing her son at 21 weeks pregnant.

No Words, Just Tears
They told me to recline for labor,
But I was on my knees.
I was on my knees
When I learned who you were.
Knees on the floor,
Hands in the air,
So much cause for praise.
I was on my knees,
Clearing the garden,
Planting seeds in the rain.
They wrapped the monitor around
And it moved up and down
With your body.
You were kicking against it
As hard as I was.
You were never on your knees.
She said she lost hers, same as mine
Twenty years ago.
She caught my son, she felt the weight.
She knows. She knows.
One day gone, and clothes hang loose.
All of me is too small without you.
Every sight of mother with child
Whispers, My son, my son, my son.
The longing all day, the longing all life,
For the moment to recline.
We push, we writhe, on cursed ground.
You drive us to our knees.
They say they want to take the work,
They tell me to be still.
They’ll cook, they’ll clean, leave me undone:
You forget I was made for labor.
Let me weep, with feeble hands reverse
The mundane disorder I can control.
Milk is here and you are not.
We touch each other to quell the grief.
I hold your brothers in my arms,
Your father wraps around me.
There’s nothing to do but wait
For the milk of the Promised Land.
I will see your face. I will hold your face.
On Your knees, sweating blood,
Wrestling over life to be lost and won.
I watch the blood flow, the scar site burns;
My son is lost to me.
Your Son was lost to You.
You know. You know.
And I am on my knees.
I am on my knees.

How beautiful is that poem? Doesn't it sum it all up? What tender and powerful images!

As I told Rochelle about John, she held my hand and nodded as if she too had known this kind of loss. She did not try to make it better or say something about the bright side. She just shook her head and cried.  The silence and tears from this stranger were so comforting.  Friends, if you find yourself face to face with someone who is hurting and you don't know what to say, say just that, or nothing at all. I am just as guilty as everyone else about wanting to say the one thing that will make it all better. Our intentions are from a loving place. Our hearts ache for our loved ones who are grieving and we want to do and say everything we can to alleviate the pain.  I know that "I love you" and "I'm thinking of you" and "I don't know what to say" do not sound like enough but they are.  As the blogger wrote about her friend, "Let's let her speak when she is ready....We'll be quiet and mourn with her. No words. Just tears."

I hope each of you had a blessed Easter weekend. Thank you for your continued prayers for my family.
Love, Krystle 

At vs. With

I just read a story about a 26 year old woman who delivered twins and then smothered them.  I cannot describe how much this hurts my heart.  My tears do nothing to express the white hot anger and heartache I feel. She carried to term and delivered two healthy babies in her laundry room and then took their little lives. Lord, this is not fair! How do you allow this evil and this total disregard of beautiful innocent babies!?!? I do not understand and I am angry. I am angry that You would bestow these lavish and perfect gifts on an evil, sick person who did not realize their worth. I am angry that I wake up at night and hear John crying. I am angry that when Maggie and Sam are both asleep I feel like my work isn't done.  I am angry that I feel like I should be making more bottles, singing more lullabies and rocking another baby to sleep. 

As I was having a very hard moment tonight I remembered a passage from The Magician's Nephew by C. S. Lewis that I read in high school.  I found the passage I was thinking about summarized by an Episcopal priest named Michael Blewett:

"a boy named Digory finds himself face-to-face with Aslan, the great lion (and Christ-figure).  Digory’s mother is very ill and, ever since he had heard of the great Aslan, wondered if there was something Aslan could give him that would cure his mother and make things the way they used to be. Until that moment in the meeting, Digory had been looking down a Aslan’s great, clawed paws.  But when Digory lifted his eyes to look into Aslan’s face, he saw something that surprised him more than anything in his life:

“For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.”

I love this passage! It reminds me that I am angry and sad with God, not at Him.  The Lord's heart is breaking along with mine and so much more deeply. 

Honestly, I do not know why God allows bad things to happen, especially to babies. I do not have all answers and I sometimes doubt.  But that's okay.  Our God is big enough for our doubts and you better believe that if your heart is breaking, so is His. 

I read this tonight from I Will Carry You by Angie Smith:

I'm sure that you can think of areas in life where you feel let down by God, even things that have pushed you away from relationship with Him.  I won't say I don't understand the questioning because quite frankly it makes all the human sense in the world. What kind of God watches a mother hold her dying baby?  Would you allow me to enter into your heart a bit here?  I believe that everything that happens in our lives, however awful, is an opportunity to bring glory to Jesus. Have I wished it had been in a different way? Of course I do.  And you probably do too.  If I choose to, I can hold that against Him.  I can let it embitter me for the rest of my days, as I walk around finding holes in everything He has done. All of us will have times of crisis.  The most we can do is put our hands on the stone and accept what happens next with the grace that says circumstances will define neither God's love for us nor our love for God.

I can choose to be angry at God and push Him away or I can put my hope in His word and be angry with God and let Him hold me as I grieve. 

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18

"Remember your word to your servant, for you have given me hope. My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life." Psalm 119: 49-50

Love, Krystle