Sunday, February 27, 2011

Blessed by His Comfort

The past two days have been hard.  I cried more yesterday alone than I had all week.  Today I was in a bad mood most of the day.  I mentioned to my sister that I didn't know what was going on with me... she said "you just lost a baby 3 months ago, I'm pretty sure those things are part of grieving."

I hate grief.  I hate having a broken heart. I hate that feeling like this makes sense.  I hate my new normal.

We went to Rachel's grave to shovel tonight.  Of course by the time we got there it was dark... we cleaned off her spot anyway.  I cried a lot... I told her about her stone and how it's coming this spring.  sigh.  I hate this.  I keep waiting for that "thing" that is going to make me feel better.  Is it her stone, her playground, the things we do in her memory, another baby??  None of them will ever remove the pain of the loss of my daughter.  I'm foolish to think it will...I don't really believe it, but I have moments where I think into the future and try to imagine a day when my heart doesn't hurt so bad.  I keep asking people who have lost babies "does it ever stop hurting?"  Most will say it hurts less - but nobody has said it stops hurting all together.  Can I take this for the rest of my life??

Tonight we listened to parts of a sermon by John MacArthur on mourning...  his words are truth and yet they sting because I know them too well.  He said how long does it hurt?  "More for some and less for others"  From day to day, I don't know which category I fall in... it's a roller coaster.

Mother Teresa once said "You never know Jesus is all you need until Jesus is all you have"

I think this is where the verse in Matthew 5:4 takes on a deeper meaning for me

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted 

I've always been familiar with this verse, but tonight I heard it with different ears.  All day I have been frustrated that I don't feel 100% better yet.  I am tired of being a mourning mother.  I am not looking forward to always being a mother who lost a baby.  I guess this reality is just hitting me.  Maybe the fact that 3 months feels like so long and just yesterday at the same time is accentuating that this isn't going away any time soon.  I don't even want it to really... I don't know.  I hate it when I try to explain something with words and fail. 

All I know is that in my mourning, I have been comforted. 

By God.

Humans let me down almost daily.  I have heard some of the craziest attempts at making me feel better...people are quick to throw out a pat answer for "why" God allowed this. (as if they know!) They tell me what a blessing it is...they tell me why it's good. (obviously, they haven't lost a baby)  Someone said to me last week "well at least it wasn't one of your other children". (What do I say to that?)  While I was at the hospital crying over the fact that my milk came in and I had no baby to nurse, I was told "she doesn't need your milk now"  I have heard that it was a "small price to pay for all the people she's helped"...  (small price for who?)  One "nice" comment after another has left me almost afraid to talk to people.  Mostly because I don't want to be upset with them.  Not just cause their words hurt me (although they do deeply) but because I don't like being upset with people.  I have enough to deal with emotionally and it doesn't feel good to be mad.

And the amount of "brain jokes" I hear is disgusting... people not paying attention or thinking twice about their words... it drives me nuts.  I had someone AT the hospital the day after Rachel died, with her kid saying how her daughter had "big brains" (she could just call her smart) I had someone 2 days ago tell me she felt like a "brain doner" (she could just call herself dumb)  I have heard everything from "use your brains" to  "my brain is mush" and I KNOW that these people don't mean to be hurtful - they just aren't thinking about their words...or my loss... but when your baby dies because part of her brain and skull was missing, you don't want to hear stuff like this.  It's hard on my heart...and the Mama Bear in me wants to protect my girl.

Anyway, I digress... my point is that the comfort I receive from God never hurts.  It is never off the mark.  It is never unthoughtful. He is never so focused on making a point that he isn't gentle with me.  He is always full of mercy and He is always there for me.

I have been comforted by so many people...and some have comforted me in a way that I knew was straight from God... I have been blessed by these people.  Because it was from God.  The people who have attempted to comfort me in their own understanding have fallen short - and I am guilty of doing this to people in the past as well - but the only One Who can truly hold my heart is my Lord.  Sometimes He uses His people and sometimes, He holds my heart while I try to endure people.
(in case you just wondered if I'm talking about you, don't worry, you would know - unfortunately, I have never been classified as a people pleaser) :o)

The richness of my relationship with the Lord as a result...the deepness, the intimacy I have with Him, the trust I have developed in Him, the peace He gives me in the midst of heartache.... that is what makes me "blessed".

I wouldn't know Him like I do if I wasn't "mourning"
If He wasn't all I have, I wouldn't know He was all I need.

I still miss my girl more than my heart can bear
But with His comfort, He wraps my broken heart up
And carries it along


  1. All I can do is continue to grieve with you and pray with all my heart, my friend.
    You have blessed me SO much reading your blog as often as I can.
    Rest in His comfort and His unending love friend.
    Isaiah 40:31 NLT

  2. Praying for you continually as you go through these difficult past few days. Love and Prayers....

  3. My heart hurts for you. May God bless you tonight with comfort. HUGS, Tienne

  4. When my son died, someone actually told my own mother that, "well, maybe he would have grown up to do something awful".....I couldn't even formulate a thought after that one. Know that although a stranger to you, I grieve for Rachel and for you and for your whole family. I still grieve for my son after almost 13yrs...that yearning to feel him in my arms again will only be completely satisfied when we meet in heaven. The cord is stretched, but never broken.



We so appreciate your words of encouragement!
Thank you! ♥ The Aubes