Happy Valentine's Day to your family from mine! This time last year, our Valentines were ultrasound photos of our little Munch . . . so much better to have here her here!
Shout out to Naomi from Works of Anselm for the adorable dress on Natalie!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
L'incendie au village voisin
It has been a long time since a piece of music moved me as much as this work by Charles-Valentin Alkan did when I heard it on the radio yesterday. Although an etude, this work is also program music as it depicts its title: "Fire in the Neighboring Village." A beautiful pastoral scene is painted which then gives way to a violent fire and then finally the calm after the flames are doused. In a way, it describes life: things are good, bad things happen, but God always calms the storm for us in the end. Enjoy!
Thursday, February 2, 2012
What I Learned When a Loving God Took My Baby
Whenever there is a loss in life, a great trial or tragedy, people often wonder how a "loving God" could have allowed such a thing to occur. The answer often is not clear to mortal minds, but I know that, in this instance, God used great sorrow to grow amazing love.
The week before Christmas, I found out that I was five weeks pregnant. Once the initial shock wore off, I was super excited, albeit a little scared, that I was going to have two children so close together. Playmates, best friends, life-long companions--perhaps even closer than my sister and I are because my two were going to be just fourteen months apart instead of thirty. We shared our news with family and a few close friends around the holidays, and our happiness only grew. My mind was filled with dreams of the next year--two babies around the tree, double strollers, and joy.
Just before I was eight weeks along, just a month away from entering my second trimester, I lost the baby. Words cannot describe the agony that wrenched my soul as I realized that I would never hold my little girl in my arms, that her birthday would come and go . . . without her, that the life that was within my womb was no more. Grief. Pain. Devastation. I am still struggling with it.
Through it all, however, I have felt the arms of Jesus holding me close to His heart. I have felt His love surrounding me. I have felt His strength upholding me and giving me the power to make it through each day.
Why would a loving God take my baby when it was already so loved? There are so many healthy babies whose lives are taken from them by mothers who don't want them--why did God take a little girl whose parents were excited to meet her?
I don't know.
But that doesn't make God any less loving and compassionate. In fact, it has drawn me closer to Him and introduced me to His love in a whole new way. God says, "I love you, and I know what is best for you, my child." As He has guided and continues to lead me through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I see and feel His light encompassing me. I cling to Him and He holds me close. I cry and He wipes my tears. I pray and He tenderly listens.
One might say that I prayed that God would save my baby and that He didn't answer . . . but He did. His answer was no. Now, I have a little girl waiting for me in heaven. As I envision her running into the arms of Jesus, it draws me closer to my Lord.
How could I still love a God who would allow me to experience such heart-rending pain? I honestly don't know--I just know that I do. I understand that God will never give me more than I can handle, and that He has given me the ultimate test of my faith. It is one thing to die for Christ--it is another to sacrifice the child for whom you would die. God asked Isaac of Abraham, and Abraham was willing. God did not ask me, but my test was whether or not I would serve Him in the end. I do.
Looking neither to the right nor to the left, I will follow Him, no matter the cost. For me the cost seems high indeed--but I understand just a little more just how much God paid to redeem me. The blood of His innocent Son shed before His eyes. What a sacrifice, what a cost, what a love this is. I will praise Him for His goodness, and thank Him for His love. And one day, one day, I will shout with joy when I join my little girl in the Everlasting Arms.
Through the darkest night He leads me, leads me, leads me.
In my hour of need, He holds my hand.
Though the world would tear me from Him, firm He keeps me,
Guiding me on to His promised land.
The week before Christmas, I found out that I was five weeks pregnant. Once the initial shock wore off, I was super excited, albeit a little scared, that I was going to have two children so close together. Playmates, best friends, life-long companions--perhaps even closer than my sister and I are because my two were going to be just fourteen months apart instead of thirty. We shared our news with family and a few close friends around the holidays, and our happiness only grew. My mind was filled with dreams of the next year--two babies around the tree, double strollers, and joy.
Just before I was eight weeks along, just a month away from entering my second trimester, I lost the baby. Words cannot describe the agony that wrenched my soul as I realized that I would never hold my little girl in my arms, that her birthday would come and go . . . without her, that the life that was within my womb was no more. Grief. Pain. Devastation. I am still struggling with it.
Through it all, however, I have felt the arms of Jesus holding me close to His heart. I have felt His love surrounding me. I have felt His strength upholding me and giving me the power to make it through each day.
Why would a loving God take my baby when it was already so loved? There are so many healthy babies whose lives are taken from them by mothers who don't want them--why did God take a little girl whose parents were excited to meet her?
I don't know.
But that doesn't make God any less loving and compassionate. In fact, it has drawn me closer to Him and introduced me to His love in a whole new way. God says, "I love you, and I know what is best for you, my child." As He has guided and continues to lead me through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I see and feel His light encompassing me. I cling to Him and He holds me close. I cry and He wipes my tears. I pray and He tenderly listens.
One might say that I prayed that God would save my baby and that He didn't answer . . . but He did. His answer was no. Now, I have a little girl waiting for me in heaven. As I envision her running into the arms of Jesus, it draws me closer to my Lord.
How could I still love a God who would allow me to experience such heart-rending pain? I honestly don't know--I just know that I do. I understand that God will never give me more than I can handle, and that He has given me the ultimate test of my faith. It is one thing to die for Christ--it is another to sacrifice the child for whom you would die. God asked Isaac of Abraham, and Abraham was willing. God did not ask me, but my test was whether or not I would serve Him in the end. I do.
Looking neither to the right nor to the left, I will follow Him, no matter the cost. For me the cost seems high indeed--but I understand just a little more just how much God paid to redeem me. The blood of His innocent Son shed before His eyes. What a sacrifice, what a cost, what a love this is. I will praise Him for His goodness, and thank Him for His love. And one day, one day, I will shout with joy when I join my little girl in the Everlasting Arms.
Through the darkest night He leads me, leads me, leads me.
In my hour of need, He holds my hand.
Though the world would tear me from Him, firm He keeps me,
Guiding me on to His promised land.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
The Fruit of Tears
Sorrow is a fruit; God does not allow it to grow on a branch that is too weak to bear it. --Victor Hugo
God will never give us more than we can handle, and He uses the trials of this life to make us stronger and to point us back to Himself. Too much comfort and earthly joy can breed attachment to this place, but God allows sorrows and pain to make us long to be home with Him.
I am reminded again of the Sovereign Grace lyrics to "In the Valley" :
. . . In the daytime there are stars in the heavens
But they only shine at night.
And the deeper that I go into darkness
The more I see their radiant light.
So let me learn that my losses are my gain,
To be broken is to heal
That the valley’s where Your power is revealed.
The darker our sorrow, the greater the glory of the Lord and the brighter the light of His Celestial City shines.
God will never give us more than we can handle, and He uses the trials of this life to make us stronger and to point us back to Himself. Too much comfort and earthly joy can breed attachment to this place, but God allows sorrows and pain to make us long to be home with Him.
I am reminded again of the Sovereign Grace lyrics to "In the Valley" :
. . . In the daytime there are stars in the heavens
But they only shine at night.
And the deeper that I go into darkness
The more I see their radiant light.
So let me learn that my losses are my gain,
To be broken is to heal
That the valley’s where Your power is revealed.
The darker our sorrow, the greater the glory of the Lord and the brighter the light of His Celestial City shines.
Monday, January 16, 2012
It is Well
Once again, I find myself understanding anew the sentiments in the hymn "It is Well with My Soul." Trials have come and sorrows like sea billows have rolled. Through it all, peace like a river has comforted my soul, and God has taught me to say "It is well" even through the darkest of days.
Clinging to the arms of my Savior, I have learned that Jesus does indeed offer balm for the wounded heart and that His all-encompassing love brings healing when we need it most.
On Sunday, I heard a sermon that cut straight to my heart. In it we were told repeatedly that "the storm will pass and be over." No matter the storm in my life or yours, it will pass. It will end. In the end comes the calm. In the end comes joy.
Our sorrows and trials probably will last for more than one night, but look forward to the joy that comes when the storm has passed and with the dawning of a new day.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Fly to Jesus
. . . Sometimes the way is lonely
And steep and filled with pain
So if your sky is dark and pours the rain, then
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus and live! . . .
. . . And with your final heartbeat
Kiss the world goodbye
Then go in peace, and laugh on Glory's side, and
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus and live! . . .
And steep and filled with pain
So if your sky is dark and pours the rain, then
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus and live! . . .
. . . And with your final heartbeat
Kiss the world goodbye
Then go in peace, and laugh on Glory's side, and
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus and live! . . .
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
God
God is never bigger to us than when we are prostrate before him in submission, and His love is never greater than when He is tenderly healing our broken hearts. His infinite wisdom is never more evident than when we do not understand, and His ultimate sacrifice is never more magnificent than when He calls us to make one of our own.
The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
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