If you are one of the mothers who has been able to give birth, epidural or not.. if you have been able to go to the hospital contracting.. if you got to experience your water breaking on its own and the rush of having everybody expecting YOU to do all the work, please know what a great blessing that is. So many would give a lot to experience even just a small bit of any of those things. Not trying to preach, just thought I'd say that while I'm at it.
That day I went in knowing that I may get to the hospital and not be dilated at all. I knew I might get there and have them tell me that I’m contracting but nothing else is happening. When you’re trying for a VBAC they have very little options in the way of getting you to dilate. Apparently, even the few options they do have to force your body to dilate most times doesn’t ultimately work and you still have to go for a c-section. I knew all these things and only just the day before had finally and joyfully accepted that that very well may be what would happen in the end.
But as I put on the gown and got up in the bed, all I could think on was how my chest was so tight from the excitement and anticipation of finding out if I was dilated. As the nurse hooked me up to the monitor, this was what I thought about and nothing else. I still feel the excitement as I type this. I looked down at my huge stomach (she was almost 10lbs) as she strapped the monitor to me and thought, “here we go, girlie.”
And then she couldn’t find the heartbeat. And then another nurse couldn’t find the heartbeat. And then they sent for a resident doctor to bring the ultrasound to check and as this doctor searched and I noticed that I couldn’t see a little beating heart where I thought it ought to be, I began to deny the voice in my head that was saying “get ready”.
Have you ever experienced this knowing but not wanting to hear it? It’s horrible, isn’t it? And as this doctor spoke very slowly and deliberately, Carey grabbed hold of my hand and I knew he was worrying the same thing. My heart went numb. She said that they were going to get the on call OB but that if he couldn’t find anything that it “appears she’s passed” and I looked at Carey for the first time through all of it… I’ll never forget the look on his face. He stood to gather me up and all I could do was feel detachment from what was happening.
When that awful first wave of grief in the form of denial came, I couldn’t cry. I remember one of the first things I said into his shoulder was “Oh God!”. I wondered as I heard myself say it over and over and heard all of the staff scrambling to leave the room, if they thought I was just saying it like one would say oh my gosh. I was vaguely aware of being worried about that because I have never said this phrase before but in this case, my exclamation was literally “Oh God, where are you?” As I began to repeat this over and over, I found myself going through the awful process of trying to deny this was happening, thinking, "surely this is just a dream”. But then I would find my hand being held by a nurse who was just there to cry with me and realize, again, I wasn’t a dream at all.
From the moment they said she was gone til a day or two after we got home, I didn't speak an intentional prayer to the Lord. I didn’t pray or take it to Him. I would think things like, “He’s going to bring her back from the dead. Surely that’s what He’s doing.” Or I would say to Carey and daddy, “How is this not meaningless?!” I would think about Him, but it was as if the God who pretty much always feels near to me was suddenly far, far away from my sorrows. They began to ask me questions in preparing me for my c-section and I would get more and more disconnected from the Lord in my heart and mind. I didn’t know this at the time… there was no room in me to examine what I was going through but I look back on it now and see that’s what was happening.
At that point, it was all still so new that no one but Daddy was there. My daddy is the type of daddy who hears this kind of horrible news and leaves the house before the phone has even been hung up. Before the whole story has even been told. So, he was there for a while before everyone else got there. And all me and Carey and him could do was sit and cry as they prepared me for surgery. And looking back on it, in those moments I see I could’ve cared less about talking to the Lord.
And then Chris walked through the door. She came straight to us, laid her hand on me and began to pray to the Father she has tasted and seen is good in all circumstances, including death and all sorts of horrors. I can’t remember any of what she said except the first part of the prayer. She began praying by telling Jesus who she knew He is. She was so quite and so reverent as she spoke to Him and I found myself closing my eyes and wanting to go to sleep to the sound of the peace in her voice. She called Him “the man of sorrows” and I began to cry in a new kind of way.
Some of you may think I’m crazy or that I’m making this next part up and there is no way for me to prove to you otherwise. All I know to do is just tell you what I saw and hope the Lord gives you the ability to hear and believe one of the things He does for us when we’re so broken we can’t even think.
The moment she called Him the man of sorrows, I saw Jesus. My eyes were closed and I saw what you see when you close your eyes - the backs of your eyelids. But I also saw the head of a Man appear in my vision with my eyelids still in the background and He was so close in my sight that it seemed He was pressing His forehead to mine. Like when Dr. Crute came up later and she wanted me to look her in the eyes so she put her face so close to mine her nose was almost touching mine. All I could see was His head, He was so close to me. I couldn’t see His face beause there was a light shining behind Him that shone through His hair but darkened His face so that I couldn’t make it out. He didn’t say a word but in that moment, as I was unknowingly traveling down the path of resentment and bitterness that I believe would have caused me to turn away from Him in my anger, the Man of many sorrows stepped in my path and put His forehead to mine and made me know Him in a way I've never known Him before. He showed me how He was grieving with me, in the same way that I saw Dr. Crute grieving with me when she put her face to mine later on that night. I look back on myself while Chris prayed and I see myself (spiritually and emotionally) with a head bowed under the weight of the greatest grief I’ve ever known. I could not, in my own strength, lift my head to see anything but the great darkness that had settled on me.
But this Man of sorrows is better equipped than anyone to help "the fallen and lift those bent beneath their loads.” This is where Grace began in this new season of my life. He could have left me alone. I wasn’t seeking Him out. He could have let me continue on in my despair until I had dishonored His holy name by saying He just plays games with us. He could have let me keep walking that path and then face so much bitter regret afterwards when I had come out of the season of grief and saw on the other side that He had been faithful. But instead of allowing me to get what I really do deserve - shame, regret, months or years of depression and fighting fear - He came to me as I struck out on my own sinful road, took His finger and lifted my chin so I would look at Him. He put His forehead to mine and sat with me while I grieved the life of a little girl I would have died to save.
This is Jesus, friends.
“He was despised and rejected - a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. We turned our backs on Him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care. Yet it was our weakness He carried; it was OUR sorrows that weighed Him down… But He was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed. All of us, like sheep, have strayed away. We have left God’s paths to follow our own. Yet the Lord laid on Him the sins of us all… But it was the Lord’s good plan to crush Him and cause Him grief. Yet when His life is made an offering for sin, He will have many descendants. He will enjoy a long life, and the Lord’s good plan will prosper in His hands.”
Isaiah 53:3-10
It was the Father’s good plan to crush Him and cause Him grief, because it allowed us to finally be made whole and right with Him again as sons and daughters through Jesus sacrifice.
This is the God of the Bible. This is the Great God of history that shows Himself over and over to be Jehovah Shalom - the Lord our peace. This is what makes Jesus different than every other false god out there. He took up our grief so that when we suffer trails of any kind we can take His yoke and let Him teach us, because He is humble and gentle at heart and because He understands. He knows. He gives us rest for our souls that we cannot find any other way in this life. In the place of the heavy burden of our present troubles that bends us low to the ground until we almost break, He gives us His burden that is easy to bear. He gives us a burden that is light, mild, manageable and even pleasant.
He gives us joy in the greatest sorrow of our lives and speaks through us the words that bless His name and let us know the joy, above all other joys, that He is pleased with us.
"Not to us, Lord, not us, but to Your name goes all the glory for your unfailing love and faithfulness. Why let the nations say, “Where is their God?” Our God is in the heavens, and He does as He wishes.”
Psalm 115:1-3
This is so true. I have been here in this place. I have felt that supernatural Presence in my hour of agony. I am so thankful for Jesus and His unfailing Love. Praise to Him alone!
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