Season of Waves

I knew that after loosing Joshua I would go through seasons of grief. Some would be harder then others and then some would be easier. I think that I am on the brink of a harder season. The reason being: Joshua's one year birthday is in two months. That probably not be cause for my hardship. The fuel to my sorrow is from those around me. Because we went to a birthing class and experienced our pregnancies together with other couples we also became friends with them. Well as Joshua's year is up and coming so are all our friends babies first year parties. I have received two invitations already. In the next four months we have seven friends who have babies who will be turning one.

SEVEN... Seven parties, Seven babies, Seven families who are happy, Seven reminders that I will not be spending time with my son on his first birthday. I know that it is going to hurt. These next four months being so filled with joy. I do not want people to be awkward around us. I do not want to be the only rain cloud on a sunny day. And yet I know that every party I attend my heart will be hurting. And there is no way around it. I cannot hide. I cannot run, I cannot ignore. I must live my life without fear. And unfortunately in this case it means that I must face my pain. Yuck. But there is a place inside me that is afraid. I am afraid of hurting. I am afraid to open my heart up. I know when the birthdays come my joy for my friends will not be fake. It will not be partial. But it will be bittersweet. That just is the reality of my life right now. It is not pretty. It cannot be fixed.

2 Corinthians 12:7-10 (Message)
"Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn't get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan's angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn't think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me,

My grace is enough; it's all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness.
Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become."


This seems to be where I am... I will constantly be handicapped. I will always have a broken place in my soul that Joshua will be.( maybe a better way to say that is: Joshua was given an eternal place in my heart the moment I found out I was pregnant.) He is my son. He cannot be erased. He cannot be avoided. And I will not try to do any of those things. I am not a prisoner of sorrow though I will feel it. I am not a prisoner of fear though it will threaten me. I will never be strong enough to deal with this on my own. I will always need God. Always. That thought scared and delights me at the same time. Because of my fierce desire for independence; always needing God is frustrating. But my misfitted soul is overjoyed knowing loneliness will never crush me.

Oh Lord,
I will need your strength. I need your hope, peace, love, and most of all: I need your grace. Have grace on Matthew and I over these next few months. Place a shield of protection around our marriage. We are your children and we ask that you protect us from the piercing attaches the enemy has already set out ahead of us. Be strong on our extra weak days. Be jealous on our lonely days. Be near us everyday. We trust you even though we see only darkness ahead. We trust your goodness. For you are worthy of all our praise because you sent your son to died that we may be free and live with hope. We love you. In JESUS name, Amen.