This week I’m launching my Audio Healing Retreat, Get Past the Past. In celebration of that, I’m inviting friends around the blogosphere to share their stories of healing. Today’s guest is Bridget Beth Collins who used to babysit our kids when we lived in Seattle. Now she has kids of her own! She is pictured here with baby Oliver. And I have a crush on her blog; I read it every day.
She wrote this last year around Easter Sunday.
Today I had a heart tingling realization. A year ago I saw my still, silent baby on an ultrasound without any heart beat. About a week later I held it in the palm of my hand and said goodbye. The day I found out I sent an email to my friends telling them of my broken heart. The date on it was April 22. My current baby’s due date.
Hope springs eternal.
The wait is over. The baby is term. It occurred to me this morning that something in me has been waiting for April. Silently, patiently, a shift in my perception has taken place. I said long ago that if I could make it through these dark months a little lamb would spring forth. Today I feel like that little lamb is me. I got pregnant last winter, lost the baby in April, and started over again in the summer.
Something happens inside you when expectations are not met. Our pastor talked about this very thing on Sunday. When Jesus came he was supposed to be king. He was supposed to lead the people out of occupation. But he was not here for politics. He was here to save our hearts, not our land. So they killed him.
When our expectations are not met hope, innocence, and faith die inside us. On Palm Sunday we wrote out the expectations we put on God that may make us lose faith in Him on palm leaves and placed them in the center isle of the church, (symbolizing where Jesus rode on the donkey).
I was thinking of my miscarriages. It isn’t just the baby that dies, it’s your attachment to the next one, it’s your hope that another will come, it’s your faith that God can restore or even cares. I put down another friend’s name who has been barren for a long long time. Would I kill my Jesus for these expectations? Hypothetically, spiritually? I think we have to believe that we would for Good Friday and Easter to truly be meaningful. We are that sinful, and desperately in need of His saving.
That’s what I’m trying to cling to today. It makes his resurrection all the more powerful. It makes the miracle of this baby all the more sweet. It’s been hard to see the end. It’s been devastating at times to not feel like Life could really come, and to feel so numb. But I see it now. There is light, and it is shining bright and clear.
- A Woman Often Overlooked (lovemeanyway.wordpress.com)