"God will never give you more than you can handle."
OR how about this one...
"God only chooses special people to handle ___________ (fill in your trial) because He knows they are strong enough to endure it."
Those sound like great sayings that come out of the wisdom of Solomon's book of Proverbs, right? Well, when you find them, let me know. I'm no theologian, but that must be in Proverbs 32.
I fully understand that sometimes people say things like that because they are very well-intentioned and they want to provide some words of comfort, but they just don't know what to say. I'm know that I have even both thought and said those things multiple times in the course of my lifetime. As I have come to experience more trials and suffering in my life, I have also come to find that many of those well-intentioned sayings are simply hogwash (and that's actually the nice word for what I'd like to call them).
It was only in the last couple of months that an older, wiser sister-in-Christ pointed out the falsehood of the above particular sayings out to me. The truth of it is that the only thing God says He won't give us beyond what we can bear is temptation (1 Cor. 10:13). You want to know why I think God gives us more than we can handle? It's simple. So we rely on His strength and not our own. Jesus even cried out in Matthew 26:39 for God to take away the cross because He knew it would be too much to handle. But God didn't take it away. It was THE necessary part of His story of redemption.
"For my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." ~2 Cor. 12:9
If I was strong enough to handle it on my own, the fullness of Christ's strength would never be shown.
I'll just tell you from my own experience. Losing a baby after a year of trying to get pregnant, having premature multiples, raising multiples, losing another baby, and experiencing normal marital issues are amongst the biggest things that God has allowed in my life that I absolutely can't handle. The above sayings say that I should feel "special" for being chosen for these things. Like I have some superhuman strength that many others around me simply do not have. Guess what? I'm tired of being on these "special lists." People often ask me how I can handle having twins. My answer, "I do what has to be done because they are my children and I love them." It's a choice to accept the responsibility that God has given me. I could just as easily choose to not accept it as many people do.
If we follow the above logic, that means that God made a mistake when He allowed certain people to become parents who then go on to drive their van into an ocean because what God had given them must have been too much to handle. We don't have to look far to find people miserably fail to handle their trials or just normal circumstances of life. I can promise you that I am not any more special or better equipped to handle certain situations in life than the next person.
The above sayings take away the personal responsibility we have to make the choice to obey God or not. We don't get to blame God when things get too hard and we make a decision to bail. I make several small choices a day to obey God. Obedience starts in the small choices so that we are able to stay obedient in the big choices.
What does God expect of us though when we find ourselves in a trial that He's allowed in our lives that really is more than we can bear? I think we can find the answer in Scripture:
"God is our refuge and strength; an ever-present help in time of trouble." ~Psalm 46:1
"I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." ~Lamentations 3:24
"Be still, and know that I am God; and I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." ~Psalm 46:10
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." ~Matthew 11:28
He wants us to come to Him. He wants us to make daily choices to trust Him and find our sufficiency and strength in Him. The next time you find yourself needing to provide words of comfort and encouragement to someone who is hurting around you, think carefully about the words you offer. We can't always say what God is and isn't going to do...what God will and won't allow...or why God allows certain things in our lives. God has a purpose and it is far beyond our understanding (Isaiah 55:8)
**As previously noted, I am no theologian. Please feel free to correct me with scriptural truth if I am in error. :)
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Saturday, February 8, 2014
I Didn't Sign Up for This
I Didn't Sign up for This:
1) I didn't sign up for all of the "what-ifs" coming true. What if I lose the baby? What if my baby isn't completely healthy? What if my baby doesn't go full-term? What if...?
2) I didn't sign up to never hear my baby's heartbeat. I NEVER got to hear my baby's heartbeat...not once. I NEVER got to see a picture of my baby. I couldn't bring myself to look at the ultrasound screen during the one & only ultrasound we ever got because I knew by the tech's reaction that my baby was not alive. I really did want a picture. I just wanted to see proof that there was a baby growing inside of me. That I hadn't somehow concocted this crazy story and am now feeling an incredible pain just for the heck of it. But when the time came to ask the doctor for a picture, I couldn't bring myself to do it. The only proof I have is a pregnancy test and my sweet doctor telling me that he saw my baby.
3) I didn't sign up to lose my baby (twice). Unless you have been through it, there is no imagining the depth of pain you feel after losing a baby. I wanted to hold my baby here, not wait until I get to heaven.
4) I didn't sign up for the shame that I feel because I am still (months later) grieving a baby that I never got to hold. I feel like I should have more trust & hope because I know that my God is sovereign & for me, but again, the depth of hurt that I feel is lingering longer than I hoped it would. It has revealed the sin of jealousy in my life. I fight a lot of things on a daily basis because I feel like I should have it more together. I put on a great mask sometimes and there are days when I feel like such a fraud for even wearing a smile on my face.
5) I didn't sign up to be the "elephant in the room." I'm the one that people avoid talking baby or pregnancy stuff around.
6) I didn't sign up to have my babies early and watch them through an incubator wall for the first several weeks of their life.
In reality, I did sign up for the possibility of all of the above, but just not the reality of it.
In reality, I did sign up for the possibility of all of the above, but just not the reality of it.
I Signed up for This:
1) A healthy, full-term baby that I could cuddle to my chest and nurse and take home from the hospital
2) The aches & pains of a growing belly
3) The stretch marks
4) The weight gain
5) The exhaustion & the nausea
For those women who got what they signed up for...be grateful. I am not in any way rebuking anyone, but just a simple reminder of how BLESSED you are. It's really hard on women who are experiencing infertility, have lost a baby, or who have had a preemie to hear others complain about their pregnancies. Many of us wish we had your problems. I have had ONE pregnancy out of 4 go normally. One pregnancy that I can say, "Yeah, this one actually went right." I am so grateful beyond words that God gave me the gift of my normal pregnancy and a beautiful VBAC delivery with Reagan. I wouldn't have changed a thing about my pregnancy with her. I feel the full weight of that gift when I think about my own losses and others' losses as well.
I have been somewhat "hiding" my hurt lately. Although, my sweet mom and husband have been so gracious to love me through the past couple of weeks & bear the brunt of my tears.
You can obviously tell that I am still very much working through my grief. I want to leave you with another list of things I signed up for. One that will hopefully help you to know that I didn't write this to target anyone specifically. I wrote it to vent, let other women who have experienced miscarriage know they aren't alone, and to remind myself of His promises. Isn't that exactly what David does in the Psalms?
I Also Signed up for This:
1) I signed up to trust Him no matter what He allowed in my life.
"When I am afraid, I will trust in you." ~Psalm 56:3
2) I signed up to share in His sufferings just as I share in His glory.
"Now if we are children then we are heirs-heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory." ~Romans 8:17
3) I signed up to wait on Him.
"I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." ~Lamentations 3:24
4) I signed up for new mercies.
"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." ~Lamentations 3:22-23
5) I signed up for compassion & unfailing love.
"Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love."
~Lamentations 3:32
6) I signed up to show comfort to others with the same comfort I have been shown.
"...who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from Christ." ~2 Corinthians 1:4
7) I signed up to be restored.
"And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast." ~ 1 Peter 5:10
The list really could go on & on, but I have a daughter who is sitting at my feet begging me to take a bath. I couldn't bear the burden of what I didn't sign up for without a Savior to walk with me through every step, to catch every tear, and to shower upon me an unfailing love that I in no way deserve. He will continue to be my song and my portion until my heart is healed.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Still living through it
"Grief is not something you get over; you get through it."
The above is a quote from Pastor Rick Warren from yesterday's "Parade" in the newspaper. Those words perfectly describe my heart right now. I have really been struggling lately with how to put my emotions into words and how to deal with the fact that I am still very much hurting. That quote hit the nail on the head. There were many times over the past couple of weeks where I found myself in tears and I just kept thinking, "Lauren, shouldn't you be over this by now? It's been 2.5 months." I know that is expecting a lot of myself and the reality is that I lost a baby. I may have stopped counting how many weeks I would've been, but I'm fully aware that I would know if we were having a boy or girl.
Maybe I could get over it if I hid in a closet and refused to come out. I am reminded a hundred times a day of my loss. It could be something as simple as planning a family vacation around our first baby's original due date, hanging out with a friend who is pregnant, seeing maternity clothes advertised in the newspaper, looking at my non-bump waistline, reading about another's miscarriage, etc. None of those are anyone's fault; it's life.
I guess the quote just made me feel normal for still feeling immense hurt over losing our baby. Our bible fellowship class talked about what it means to die to self so that we live for Christ. My answer right now is simply getting up and not giving in to the temptation to quit trusting God. It's clinging to the truth that even though I don't feel or see the good in all of this, it's there and He's there. It's fixing my eyes on the unseen because those are the things that are eternal. (2 Cor. 4:17)
I hesitated whether or not to even write this post because there might be some of you that think I'm simply dwelling in the hurt and need to move on. I'm not. I'm still getting through it. I don't know how long it will take. I at least have the hope of knowing I can carry healthy babies to term. And I thought that that reality would somehow bring me more comfort than it does. I actually am quite fearful of what happens the next time I'm pregnant. In all honesty, I really don't want to live through this grief again. It doesn't get any easier the more you have.
I also hesitated to share this because I have a couple of precious friends who are pregnant and are experiencing normal, healthy pregnancies and I NEVER want to make them feel guilty for our loss or make them feel like I'm not happy for them. They are godly women who have been very compassionate towards me over the past several months and I appreciate them showing me mercy when their good news is a reminder of my heartache. I have been very much wrestling with coming to peace over the fact that God's plan for our family is different than His plan for their. And that's my struggle to bear, as I'm just not there yet.
The good thing is that I am living through it and that's only because of the Lord's strength and compassion towards me. Thank you for letting me be honest with you this morning and for allowing me to continue to share our story as I have faith that He's still got a lot to write.
The above is a quote from Pastor Rick Warren from yesterday's "Parade" in the newspaper. Those words perfectly describe my heart right now. I have really been struggling lately with how to put my emotions into words and how to deal with the fact that I am still very much hurting. That quote hit the nail on the head. There were many times over the past couple of weeks where I found myself in tears and I just kept thinking, "Lauren, shouldn't you be over this by now? It's been 2.5 months." I know that is expecting a lot of myself and the reality is that I lost a baby. I may have stopped counting how many weeks I would've been, but I'm fully aware that I would know if we were having a boy or girl.
Maybe I could get over it if I hid in a closet and refused to come out. I am reminded a hundred times a day of my loss. It could be something as simple as planning a family vacation around our first baby's original due date, hanging out with a friend who is pregnant, seeing maternity clothes advertised in the newspaper, looking at my non-bump waistline, reading about another's miscarriage, etc. None of those are anyone's fault; it's life.
I guess the quote just made me feel normal for still feeling immense hurt over losing our baby. Our bible fellowship class talked about what it means to die to self so that we live for Christ. My answer right now is simply getting up and not giving in to the temptation to quit trusting God. It's clinging to the truth that even though I don't feel or see the good in all of this, it's there and He's there. It's fixing my eyes on the unseen because those are the things that are eternal. (2 Cor. 4:17)
I hesitated whether or not to even write this post because there might be some of you that think I'm simply dwelling in the hurt and need to move on. I'm not. I'm still getting through it. I don't know how long it will take. I at least have the hope of knowing I can carry healthy babies to term. And I thought that that reality would somehow bring me more comfort than it does. I actually am quite fearful of what happens the next time I'm pregnant. In all honesty, I really don't want to live through this grief again. It doesn't get any easier the more you have.
I also hesitated to share this because I have a couple of precious friends who are pregnant and are experiencing normal, healthy pregnancies and I NEVER want to make them feel guilty for our loss or make them feel like I'm not happy for them. They are godly women who have been very compassionate towards me over the past several months and I appreciate them showing me mercy when their good news is a reminder of my heartache. I have been very much wrestling with coming to peace over the fact that God's plan for our family is different than His plan for their. And that's my struggle to bear, as I'm just not there yet.
The good thing is that I am living through it and that's only because of the Lord's strength and compassion towards me. Thank you for letting me be honest with you this morning and for allowing me to continue to share our story as I have faith that He's still got a lot to write.
Friday, October 25, 2013
I See You
A friend & former NICU parent posted an article today on Facebook that really hit home with me in our current circumstances and got me thinking. The article was by a NICU nurse who commends NICU parents for their day in and day out sacrifices. She encourages the parents by saying that she sees them. Her article repeats over and over again, "I see you."
Invisibility is a characteristic I have come to know intimately over the years. I'm not saying that I feel alone and trying to elicit sympathy. Not at all. I think at some point in their lives, everyone feels invisible. Even if what we are going through (divorce, loss of a family member, a move, etc.) is very public, it doesn't take long for everyone else to move on with their own lives while your own life is stuck on PAUSE. God ordains these seasons so that we can draw near to Him. He is ultimately supposed to be ENOUGH for us. Sometimes He may have to distance us from the people or things that we stuff into our lives to make us feel full for us to realize that they are just a substitute for Him and His sufficiency.
God tells us in 2 Cor. 1:3-4 that one of the reasons He comforts us is so that we can comfort others in their troubles with the same comfort we have received. Let's stop hoarding the comfort we have received and give it away. Start seeing people. Sometimes that may mean getting out of our Christian comfort zone, seeing past the sin, and choosing instead to look at them through the compassion of our Savior. It's easy to see people when a devastation has just occurred. The harder thing is to sustain that vision of them throughout a long trial or throughout their long season of grieving.
Trust me, I am in NO way writing this to condemn. I'm really thinking out loud and mainly preaching to myself. I am just as guilty as the next person of becoming too involved in my own life that I stop seeing people. God has allowed very difficult things in my life (infertility, NICU, miscarriages) though that have given me new eyes for these precious people walking through those circumstances. We have obediently answered the call to minister to NICU families and I can't tell you the immense blessing that it has been.
My mind has dwelt a lot on some words that John Piper preached in a song that I posted recently. The song (Though You Slay Me by Shane & Shane) itself is beautiful. He said, "Not only is all your affliction light...but all of it is totally meaningful (emphasis mine). Every millisecond of your pain...it's not meaningless."
The worst thing that I could ever do to make my babies' death in vain is to selfishly hoard the comfort I have received. Let's start making our suffering meaningful and purposeful by seeing people. Yes, it might take some sacrifice on our behalf to drop an activity or two, but I think it's worth it when we consider the sacrifice Jesus Christ made on our behalf to see us in our sinfulness and die to save us from our sin.
Invisibility is a characteristic I have come to know intimately over the years. I'm not saying that I feel alone and trying to elicit sympathy. Not at all. I think at some point in their lives, everyone feels invisible. Even if what we are going through (divorce, loss of a family member, a move, etc.) is very public, it doesn't take long for everyone else to move on with their own lives while your own life is stuck on PAUSE. God ordains these seasons so that we can draw near to Him. He is ultimately supposed to be ENOUGH for us. Sometimes He may have to distance us from the people or things that we stuff into our lives to make us feel full for us to realize that they are just a substitute for Him and His sufficiency.
"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Cor. 12:9)The lesson that I guess that I take away from the article is not to wallow in those seasons in which I feel invisible, but to recognize the invisible. People need to know that they are seen. God uses the church, not the physical structure, but the body of believers to make Himself known. There are numerous examples of where Jesus went out of His way (sometimes literally...John 4-the Samaritan woman at the well) to SEE people and minister to them. John 4, 5, 9, 11 are just some examples.
God tells us in 2 Cor. 1:3-4 that one of the reasons He comforts us is so that we can comfort others in their troubles with the same comfort we have received. Let's stop hoarding the comfort we have received and give it away. Start seeing people. Sometimes that may mean getting out of our Christian comfort zone, seeing past the sin, and choosing instead to look at them through the compassion of our Savior. It's easy to see people when a devastation has just occurred. The harder thing is to sustain that vision of them throughout a long trial or throughout their long season of grieving.
Trust me, I am in NO way writing this to condemn. I'm really thinking out loud and mainly preaching to myself. I am just as guilty as the next person of becoming too involved in my own life that I stop seeing people. God has allowed very difficult things in my life (infertility, NICU, miscarriages) though that have given me new eyes for these precious people walking through those circumstances. We have obediently answered the call to minister to NICU families and I can't tell you the immense blessing that it has been.
My mind has dwelt a lot on some words that John Piper preached in a song that I posted recently. The song (Though You Slay Me by Shane & Shane) itself is beautiful. He said, "Not only is all your affliction light...but all of it is totally meaningful (emphasis mine). Every millisecond of your pain...it's not meaningless."
The worst thing that I could ever do to make my babies' death in vain is to selfishly hoard the comfort I have received. Let's start making our suffering meaningful and purposeful by seeing people. Yes, it might take some sacrifice on our behalf to drop an activity or two, but I think it's worth it when we consider the sacrifice Jesus Christ made on our behalf to see us in our sinfulness and die to save us from our sin.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Fixing My Eyes on the Unseen
"For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." ~2 Cor. 4:17-18
At this very moment, my heart is bursting with the comfort of Jesus through this verse. I have to admit though that I am conflicted with the first part of this verse. How is losing a baby (much less 2) considered light and momentary? Really? Because having your heart broken into a thousand pieces and your hopes dashed in an instant, doesn't really feel light and momentary.
Here's the key though. If all I am is focused on the present, then yeah, those things feel like the weight of the entire world rests on my chest. But if I can train my mind to focus on the eternal plan of God Almighty, then it is light and momentary. That doesn't mean that I don't feel the pain from the top of my head to the very tips of toes. It means that I know that God is doing something in my future that I can't see yet. I may not ever see it until Heaven. But if the hurt is so great here, it has to mean that the glory is infinitely times better there.
And I can't see the ripple effect that my baby's death had on everyone around me. I've had a couple of opportunities to share the gospel with precious women who are grieving the same thing I am. I've "seen" the way that God has used my pain to comfort other women who have or are going through the same thing. But God is doing so much more eternal work that isn't seen.
So I have to hold onto the deep truth of this verse because otherwise my grief will outweigh the glory.
Lord, fix my eyes on the unseen. Fix my eyes on you. Don't let me get caught up in placing my confidence in my present circumstances. Give me eyes to see your glory and give me the eternal perspective to consider my suffering light and momentary. I love you.
At this very moment, my heart is bursting with the comfort of Jesus through this verse. I have to admit though that I am conflicted with the first part of this verse. How is losing a baby (much less 2) considered light and momentary? Really? Because having your heart broken into a thousand pieces and your hopes dashed in an instant, doesn't really feel light and momentary.
Here's the key though. If all I am is focused on the present, then yeah, those things feel like the weight of the entire world rests on my chest. But if I can train my mind to focus on the eternal plan of God Almighty, then it is light and momentary. That doesn't mean that I don't feel the pain from the top of my head to the very tips of toes. It means that I know that God is doing something in my future that I can't see yet. I may not ever see it until Heaven. But if the hurt is so great here, it has to mean that the glory is infinitely times better there.
And I can't see the ripple effect that my baby's death had on everyone around me. I've had a couple of opportunities to share the gospel with precious women who are grieving the same thing I am. I've "seen" the way that God has used my pain to comfort other women who have or are going through the same thing. But God is doing so much more eternal work that isn't seen.
So I have to hold onto the deep truth of this verse because otherwise my grief will outweigh the glory.
Lord, fix my eyes on the unseen. Fix my eyes on you. Don't let me get caught up in placing my confidence in my present circumstances. Give me eyes to see your glory and give me the eternal perspective to consider my suffering light and momentary. I love you.
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