Missing Elijah...

Tonight everyone (including my sweet newborn and my handsome husband) in my house was alseep shortly after 9pm. With  four people snoozing upstairs I crept downstairs and made dinner for tomorrow night (meals you assemble the night before are my favorite). In the quiet of my downstairs I simply began to let my mind wander and I must admit that I became quite emotional. Perhaps the Wilson Philips Station I was listening to on Pandora (don't judge me!) was to blame, but more than anything, I kept coming back to dear sweet Elijah.

Our 2nd ultrasound photo of Elijah - here he is around 7 weeks! 

So many of my friends have had miscarriages lately and my heart is heavy for them knowing the road they are walking. In a couple of weeks it will be the 4 year anniversary of when we lost our oldest. I can't believe it has been four years... the pain has certainly lessened with time, but my love for him has only increased and the void of his little life often fills my thoughts. Then, my thoughts took a dangerous turn as I thought about the other babies we lost. I thought about our failed adoption - if we had not lost Elijah we would not have pursued that particular adoption and thus would never would have experienced that horrific loss. I also wonder if we would have lost Jonah's twin, Jonas, too. There was one cycle between Havana and Jonah that I thought perhaps was a miscarriage - still to this day I'm not 100% sure even though I think it was - and I wonder if I would have given it a second thought if we had never lost Elijah because I wouldn't have been so hyper-sensitive about the loss of a baby. In the stillness of my kitchen I began to grieve all those losses again.

Don't get me wrong, I'm in love with my life. I've been blessed with three AMAZING children who capture my heart and take my breath away every day. The pain Jason and I experienced together brought us so much closer and deeper and I often appreciate that. I am incredibly happy and thankful for the place the Lord has brought me... but sometimes the pain comes back so unexpectedly. I look at Jonah and daily wonder what it would be like with two little boys. I'm convinced they would be quite a pair. I wonder what personality type Elijah would have had. I wonder what my daughter who is being raised by her birthmother is doing this very moment. Is she safe? Does she know how special and loved she is? Does she know there is someone who prays for her every night?

As I think these thoughts... my heart is full of love and a hint of sadness for my babies who never came home. And in that moment in the kitchen where it was just me and my emotions... I felt the arms of Jesus Christ wrap around me so strongly and so securely. And in that embrace I simply rested and took comfort knowing that one of the reasons Jesus came to the earth was to be able to say, "I've walked where you are. I know the pain. I understand..."

I am blessed to be married to an incredible man. He makes me feel safe, loved, beautiful, etc. He gives me the freedom to be me (ugly parts and all!). Hearing his voice when he calls to say he is on his way home from work fills me with such warmth and peace. His arms provide a safe haven for me to find healing, forgiveness, and comfort. Yet, as amazing as all that is, it pales in comparison to the perfect healing, strength, beauty, forgiveness, comfort, love, and acceptance I find in Jesus' arms. He came to rescue me from all my sin, from all the scars I have from living in a fallen world, from all the heart ache. His love is not conditional, it has no limitations, it has no selfish motives... it is simply... love. In those moments I weep - He weeps with me. In those painful moments he whispers, "my grace is sufficient for you."

My challenge is sitting still enough in His arms to recieve all that He wants to lavish on me. More often than not I simply don't give Him that time. I remember after we lost Elijah I went through very deep depression. The type where I couldn't get out of bed. Jason was in residency during the time and so I had ample time to be with Jesus. He held onto me so tightly and didn't call me out of my grieving too early. Tonight in the kitchen I experienced that comfort again. It brought a smile to my face as I thought about the promise that He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I love resting in His arms and living in the promise that the next time my life seems to be shattering around me I can cling to the promise that He will be there. He will rescue. He will heal. He is faithful. And in that comforting promise I will drift off to sleep tonight.
  
"Oh Praise the One who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead."