I remember reading this post from a friend's blog while we were in Dallas. What stood out to me the first time I read it, and all the times I've read it since, are these words: Oftentimes a poor broken-hearted one bends his knee, but can only utter his wailing in the language of sighs and tears; yet that groan has made all the harps of heaven thrill with music; that tear has been caught by God and treasured in the lachrymatory of heaven.
Lately it seems that most of my praying is "in the language of sighs and tears" and sometimes all I can get out is, "Help. Please help." And sometimes it seems as if help doesn't come, because the pain is still so deep.
But help has come. It has come in lots of ways. It has come from passages I have read in the Bible. I have been reading Psalm 121 over and over, letting it sink in. It has come from books I have been reading. Another thing that has been so helpful has been the e-mails I have gotten from people who have also lost babies. A fellow blogger sent me an e-mail sharing a bit of her own experience and saying, "in case you feel you've gone over the edge some days, maybe it will help to know that someone here knows how sadness and loss can take your breath away." Another message we received after Anne Marie's funeral said, "Deepest most sincere sympathy in the 'aftermath.' It is the most debilitating pain and yet ... that precious baby is free of human disability. She is in the arms of the angels and has seen the face of God. He has released her and she waits for you all. It will be alright ... time will transform the pain into amazing joys. We feel it everyday." It was helpful to hear from this mother who has lost her baby and is now able to say that the pain has brought joy. I can't imagine how it ever could, yet I trust that it will.
Help has also come from sermons I have been listening to. I think John Piper is about the best when it comes to teaching and preaching on sovereignty and suffering. This has been one of my favorites for years, and just recently I listened to this. And then last night when I went to his blog I found this:
So yes, help has come. The awful pain is still there, and seems only to get worse because I miss Anne Marie more and more each day. But sometimes I forget that if it didn't hurt so bad then it wouldn't be called suffering. And in this suffering, God is helping me "to feel in my bones and not just know in my head that God is for me" and that "behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face."
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