Valley of Weeping to Pools of Blessing

Just wanted to share this verse I like from my devotional book.

Psalm 84:6 “When they walk through the Valley of Weeping, it will become a place of refreshing springs, where pools of blessing collect after the rains!”  The author adds, “May there be so much blessing poured out that it pools in the places that were the driest, that’s our prayer in Jesus’ name”.

I love that image.  The place where my life is the driest is in this lack of a baby here with me on Earth.  I hope that God will pour out so much blessing that it pools in that place in the near future.  Lord, I pray that for anyone else feeling a loss like this too.  Get us through this valley of weeping, then cover our desert with a pool of blessing.

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Homesick

7-2-13

A blog I follow by someone else who has lost their baby posts song lyrics sometimes.  I like this idea and have been listening to songs carefully for words that can soothe the pain of this loss.  This one really struck a chord with me today.  It is by my favorite Christian music band Mercy Me and I have heard it many times before, but suddenly it really applies to me.  I hope the words can be of comfort to someone else too.  One thing I’ve found to be a result of losing Luke is that I long for heaven in a way I never have before.  To be honest, I thought of heaven as something good I liked as a general concept, but not something I thought about a ton really.  This has changed dramatically for me now that my baby is there.  The song says:

You’re in a better place,
I’ve heard a thousand times
And at least a thousand times
I’ve rejoiced for you But the reason why I’m broken,
the reason why I cry
Is how long must I wait to be with you

I close my eyes and I see your face
If home’s where my heart is then I’m out of place
Lord, won’t you give me strength to make it through somehow
I’ve never been more homesick than now

Help me Lord cause I don’t understand your ways
The reason why I wonder if I’ll ever know
But, even if you showed me, the hurt would be the same
Cause I’m still here so far away from home

I close my eyes and I see your face
If home’s where my heart is then I’m out of place
Lord, won’t you give me strength to make it through somehow
I’ve never been more homesick than now

In Christ, there are no goodbyes
And in Christ, there is no end
So I’ll hold onto Jesus with all that I have
To see you again
To see you again

And I close my eyes and I see your face
If home’s where my heart is then I’m out of place
Lord, won’t you give me strength to make it through somehow
Won’t you give me strength to make it through somehow
Won’t you give me strength to make it through somehow

I’ve never been more homesick than now

 

P.S.  A couple of days after I posted this, I decided to try to look up what inspired Bart Millard to write this song.  I was touched and excited to find out that it started out as a song for babies who were lost.  It made me feel validated in what I was applying it to in my own heart.  Here is what the article said about the song:

“’Homesick’ talks about those who are stuck around here after someone passes away. When you lose somebody, you learn what being homesick is really about. It’s a hard thing. It shapes who you are.’

The first loss came early this past holiday season. A friend five months pregnant with twins lost her babies; but with the pregnancy so far along, the doctors had to induce labor to remove the deceased infants. Millard, who sang “Imagine” at the babies’ funeral, went home that night and wrote the chorus to “Homesick,” though he couldn’t write much more. “I didn’t want to fake my way through it,” he says, explaining why he didn’t finish the song that night. “My dad passed away 13 years ago, and I just couldn’t recall what such a tragedy felt like.”

Throughout the month of December, the names of lost loved ones piled up as tragedy struck the families of band members, management and several hometown friends. The eighth casualty, thought to be the last, involved Millard’s 20-year-old brother-in-law. “Needless to say, what I didn’t remember came back quickly,” says Millard. “We finished ‘Homesick’ and sang it at Chris’ funeral.”

Friends and Laughing Babies

6-21-13

Yesterday I met a friend for lunch who I had not seen since I lost Luke.   She is a close coworker and friend.  She had a baby 4 months before I did.  We were pregnant together and shared details about that.  Then when she had her little girl, she shared new baby stories with me and I listened, dreaming about all these things coming for me soon with the arrival of Luke.  So, although I was excited about seeing her, I was also apprehensive.  She has a new baby and I don’t.  The scenario I had pictured of both of us toting carriers with precious bundles to the restaurant can’t happen.  But she was there with hers.

I was pleased to find that I could enjoy her baby.  I smiled at her and she held tight to my finger.  I admired her little ruffled bloomers and her hair bow.  I was thankful she was a girl because girls are less painful for me to see than baby boys.  Her mom got her to laugh and her laugh was happy and very cute.  I was worried my familiar feelings of sadness at the sight of a baby would flood in and wipe me out, but they didn’t.  I felt sadness, but also the real joy I always used to feel around a cute baby.  It was bittersweet, instead of just bitter.  This seems like progress.  I was able to look forward to having that in my own life as if it will happen.

My friend cried with me several times, which is so helpful.  She also laughed with me and was very frank about her life.  She said she has been thinking about me a lot and that it has been a hard summer.  She shared a couple of things that are going on with others she cares about.  A family she knows just lost their mom.  The mom killed herself, leaving her husband and two little boys behind.  As soon as she said this, I knew it was the family we had prayed for at  the end of church last Sunday.  When I said the women’s name as a question, she confirmed that it was.  This woman had been on my mind.  For one thing, she had my name, Sara.  She also had a son named Hudson, which is my Luke’s middle name.  When the pastor prayed for her family on Sunday, I felt like the prayer was for me and my family.  The words were exactly what I needed.  They were words that have been prayed over us too.  This is so sad. I don’t understand how someone could leave her sons behind when all I want is to be with my son so badly.  In my jumbled grieving brain, I thought, well, this family has no mom, I have no son, I should just step in and be that Hudson’s mom.  They have what I need and I could fill their void also.  So silly.  If only it was that simple.

My friend also told me that her 4-year-old niece has brain cancer.  She was in remission, but now can’t walk, lost hearing in one ear and her speech is being affected.  The doctors said she probably has a month.  This made me thankful that my Luke did not have to suffer before he died.  He was not in pain.  We did not have to see him deteriorate.  This is what my doctor meant when she said there are fates worse than death.  I add this to my growing mental list of “things that would be worse”.  There are so many awful things in this world.  Thank goodness this life is just a blink of an eye compared to our eternity in heaven.  But we will get joy in this life too.  Hopefully starting with baby that I can hold close and keep while on this earth.

Last night when I was thinking about the day, I remembered that baby girl’s cute laugh and felt a stabbing pang.  My Luke never got to laugh, I thought.  I never got to see him laugh!  The loss began to rush in.  But then I felt like God told me, “He is laughing!  In heaven, he is laughing.”  And that lifted the weight.