Lessons from Sacrifice

The life we are promised…

The only thing we are promised is that we will leave this earth, just as we entered it, someday. Weathered, wiser (hopefully) and having impacted those around us long enough to be remembered for a generation or two, maybe.

And, of course, salvation, if you choose it. Sweet, sweet saving grace from a Father who knows our heart of hearts and still chooses to live with us for eternity. Does that move you? Shake you to the core?

I never fully grasped God’s desire for us until I had Chuck. After all, a parent’s love is difficult to simplify into words. But, I get it now. I get why God would want us with Him forever, despite the marker on the wall or the sleepless nights or the “I hate you-s” slung His way. I get how his perfectly infinite heart could burst at the thought of his child aching and writhing in pain. I can fathom how He would want to wrap my fragile self up in a cozy blanket of grace and set me up on the couch with a Good Book and sweet Word from Him to comfort my grieving soul, all while He works in the background to make all things work together for GOOD.

I get that parenting role because He made me for it. He gave me a mother’s soul. He gave me two precious, beautiful, living children to witness (and practice) His grace through everyday. I am so, so grateful for their role in sanctifying me.

However, He’s also given me six babies I carried, but never knew. Six devastations. Six opportunities to imagine futures and fingers and family portraits…that will never happen. ¬†Six souls to mourn and miss minute by minute. Six disappointments and six losses that have left me ever more ¬†confused about why God does, or doesn’t, do the things He does. Why does He promise in His Word that if we ask for the desires of our hearts, and ask according to His plan, that He will grant them? Why give us desires we cannot have fulfilled? Why does He say that He is always near, if, as of late, I don’t feel Him so close? And the always prevalent, why do bad things happen to good people?

I’ve had lots of months, days, minutes to contemplate my sadness, turned anger, turned bitterness, and finally, turned acceptance. I won’t have my babies in my arms until I get to heaven, but, finally I realized, God gets THAT. How much did He long for Jesus as He did His work on earth? How much did He suffer knowing He couldn’t save him from what was to come? Did He clench and pray and try to will that loss away like I did as I was losing my babies each time? Jesus didn’t desire to die on the cross. He even asked God to take that from Him if it was His will. HIS will. There’s the piece I was missing. Not mine. And desire is a matter of perspective. Jesus desired to save His people, though He didn’t desire to die an excruciating death. I desired to be a mother, but not lose my babies. My desire HAS been granted, if not in the way I wanted. And though I’ve denied Him in anger or wrestled with His will, He was always close. He was only a prayer away. A Word away. This is where the village comes in. Those who stand in the gap when you just. Can’t. Pray. Again. It’s rough. And lonely. But, they are there and He is there, listening, gently rocking and healing. When my daughter is so sad because I won’t let her keep the lizard she caught in the yard, she doesn’t want to talk to me. But, I’ll hug her anyway and console her sweet heart from a distance until she’s ready to talk again. But, I’ve never left her. God gets that.

Jesus was perfect, blameless, sinless…the best of people…yet the WORST thing happened to him. So, I guess, who am I to wonder why bad thing s happen to “good” people? Sin and Satan. That’s why. This world is broken. We are broken. Bad things will always happen, until God takes us home, because we don’t exist in the perfect vacuum of Heaven…yet. I get THAT now. And, I suppose, as I learn lessons of grace and parental love from my earthly babies, perhaps I have also learned THIS lesson of God’s sacrifice and parental pain from my heaven babies.

I can’t wait for the reunion in that perfect place some day. But, until then, I am rejoicing that my babies won’t know the pain of this world. Thank you, Lord, for granting them that sweet grace.