I Can See…

This ride is like a roller coaster from hell.  I envision Stephen King and Wes Craven sitting in the control room together, contemplating which loop to throw at me next.  Which drop will take my breath away and when.  They let me get my feet under me, and I begin to feel as though I’ll finally be able to take it easy…that the ride will stop, and I’ll be able to get off. That’s when I get to do it all over again, only backwards.

That’s a fairly accurate description for the turmoil that has become our lives.  Lena has started working again, though her days aren’t full.  She still isn’t sleeping regularly at night, and the simplest tasks (going to the grocery store, folding clothes, brushing her teeth, etc.) cause her to become exhausted.  And she’s not the only one.  The more mundane the chore, the more tired I get.  Then, everything smooths out.  We actually manage a laugh or a hug or kiss…then we cry again.

Unless you’ve experienced the things that we are going through (by losing a child), it’s completely beyond your understanding.  I’m not saying that to be mean.  It’s just the way it is.  And I certainly don’t want anyone who feels led to stop lending their support and kind and encouraging words.  I’m just letting you know that it’s virtually impossible to accurately describe the feeling.  One of the verses that I stumbled across while searching for some measure of comfort was 2 Samuel 12:15-24.  It’s part of the story of David and Bathsheba.  I’m not going to give you the verse here, just the explanation in the study guide… “Perhaps the most bitter experience in life is the death of one’s child.”  I can’t imagine much worse.

Though the pain is unbearable at times, I am still very grateful.  I am still abundantly blessed.  It’s easy to lose sight of that fact, but He always has a way of reminding me.  There are so many friends and family (blogger, church or otherwise) that drop me a line, or a thought, or a prayer.  Then I’ll hear a song, or someone will share a video with me on Facebook.  And there are the signs.  Yes, signs…

There were the butterfly shaped clouds from my last post.  Butterflies have started to perch in Mia’s butterfly garden.  Were they there before, and we just never noticed them?  Possibly, but I like to think they’re from our Baby Butterfly.  We went out-of-town last weekend to try to heal and went to a church on Sunday.  It was a church three hours away, and we didn’t know any of the people until that day.  We found out that they had been praying for us since the week Mia went home.  Lena was looking at images of butterflies online today and found a picture of a nursery in a house that had them on the wall…along with the name Mia.  That one star from my last post, the one that shines brighter than any of the others and seems to sit over my house, showed up at the cemetery tonight- directly above Mia’s memorial.

All of these things bring some measure of comfort and a smile…usually accompanied by a tear, though not the torrential downpour ones.  They’re more like the “thank you, Father, for letting me know you and Mia are there” tears.  They make life in this storm a little less frightening.  There was another blessing  He sent me, however, that came in the form of a phone call from a friend of mine.

He needs your prayers as well.  He’s having health issues with his heart and could potentially have cancer.  When his problems started about a month ago, he ended up in the hospital for a week and a half.  He’s just 31 years old.  Yet, in spite of his own trials…that could be life threatening…he had it on his heart to call me.  He wanted to call to let me know he was there for me, and he was praying for me.  I was having a hard time that day because it was a couple of days after the one month mark of Mia’s passing.  And God bade him call me, and he was faithful and obeyed.  We shared a few scriptures with one of them really sticking with me.  It was one he had been meditating on while he was in the hospital…

“I am leaving you with a gift- peace of mind and heart.  And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give.  So don’t be troubled or afraid.” -John 14:27

Such a simple verse.  Simple, yet powerful.  Here’s the meaning behind it…

“The end result of the Holy Spirit’s work in our lives is deep and lasting peace.  Unlike worldly peace, which is usually defined as the absence of conflict, this peace is confident assurance in any circumstance; with Christ’s peace, we have no need to fear the present or the future.  Sin, fear, uncertainty, doubt, and numerous other forces are at war within us.  The peace of God moves into our hearts and lives to restrain these hostile forces and offer comfort in place of conflict.  Jesus says He will give us that peace if we are willing to accept it from Him.  If your life is full of stress, allow the Holy Spirit to fill you with Christ’s peace.”

I know that this road we are on is going to be a long and difficult one.  Our world will never be the same again.  We’re left trying to find a “new normal.”  And though I may have fear and uncertainty, doubt and sin, pain and longing, I also know that I have peace in my Lord Jesus Christ and Savior.  I pray that if you don’t, you can find Him through our experiences and our faith.  He can deliver you as He will deliver me…

I couldn’t find a video for this song either, but it fits this post very well.  It’s from Steven Curtis Chapman after his daughter died.  Please close your eyes as you listen…so you can see.

[audio https://holyghostbumps.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/3-see.mp3]

13 responses to “I Can See…

  1. Thank you, again, for sharing your love with us. The song is beautiful and so right, the Lord is good. And your love is proof of this. God’s blessings are evident in your lives, and I pray for you and your entire family.

    • Without Him, I am nothing and wouldn’t be able to breathe let alone walk. Thank you very much for your prayers. They are truly appreciated.

  2. I love that song too, brother. I’ve played that whole CD over and over through this journey. Thank you for your transparency. We can relate to the daily struggles, just feeling exhausted. Keep on choosing to see God’s blessings, even in the “little things.” Your distinction between Godly peace and wordly peace is so key. I am reminded of Phl 4:7: “And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” So let us trust in Him, lean not on our own understanding and acknowledge Him in all our ways (Pro 3:5-6), as you are so clearly doing. He promises to direct our paths.

    I am continuing to pray for your and your family.

  3. Guy, I think of you and your family often in my prayers. You’re correct in saying that I cannot imagine what you have been through. I can only think of the saying that “if God brings you to it, he will bring you through it.” I truly believe that the loved ones that have passed from this world look down on us lovingly, and make us see things that might have been there before but we only now notice them. I believe it’s their way of telling us we’re hear for you. My heart goes out to you and your family, and I will continue to include you and your family in my prayers.

    • Thanks, Jamie. I really appreciate the thought. It’s hard sometimes to think that He can bring us through anything and that He won’t give us more than we can handle. He must think I’m Hercules or something 🙂 Blessings to you and your family, Brother.

  4. Guy, You are right that there are no words to describe how it feels to lose your child and losing a baby is an especially difficult loss. It brings its own special challenges. It is very hard for others to talk about too as it is such a hard thing for them to imagine going through. Finding others who have experienced the same thing can be very helpful for both you and your wife, especially as time goes on, so you can talk to people who know about that roller coaster ride you’re on. I am very familiar with that ride and it is a rough one. My thoughts are with you and your family as you struggle through these early days.

    • Thanks so very much, Cindy. I’m also sorry for your loss as well. I’ve been learning through this that it’s a great comfort to share with people who have been in similar circumstances. I appreciate your reaching out. Blessings to you and your family.

  5. We cannot fully understand someone else’s grief but I am so thankful you see His good God signs to you. You have a rich support through each other and surrounding you. I will be in prayer’s for your friend too.

  6. Hi Guy you have been in my heart but sadly the W.P Hacker blocked you on the Blogs I follow and I only just discovered it, they did the same with a few others I Blog with but please be assured I had not forgotten you and feel deeply for you in your grief.

    As I was reading your post I thought about the butterflies they seem to be the focus of a few Blogs, to some they signify Hope, would you mind Guy if I created a Power point in memory of Mia for you, if wanted you could add some of your own thoughts but please feel free to say no, it may be too soon for you.

    Much Christian Love and blessings from both of us – Anne.

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