Mercies in Disguise

It was four weeks ago today that I slowly made my way down the stairs, head pounding and weak, listening to the quiet hushed voices of my husband and children as they tried not to wake me. It almost feels like a dream until I see the cradle set up next to my bed. It has become a resting place for dolls belonging to my sweet little girls. I am leaving it there, praying one day it will be filled with a baby, one not made of plastic and fake hair, but soft, warm, and carrying the scent of heaven.

I am slowly seeing the grace that continually flows from the hand of God. It has taken me a while to see that even the loss of a baby can be showered with His grace and His blessings.

I tend to pray for things that will make my life easy. Isn’t that human nature? Why do I think that when trials in this life come that they are meant to break me and bring me down. I spent two weeks crying out to the Lord and begging for Him so save this baby. I did everything in my human power to prevent a miscarriage. While I may never know this side of heaven what happened, I can still see His grace.

I get so attached to this decaying, dying world and then something happens to remind me that this is not my home. He chose not to heal my body, but He will heal my heart. All the nights after I came home from the hospital, feeling empty in my womb, empty in my heart, sleep running from me, I laid there crying to the Lord. Calling on Him. It took an emptiness to beg for His filling. I’ve been the valley of “dry bones”. (Ezekiel 37) I didn’t see this until now. How does life, life in Him, slip away unnoticed? How did I get so wrapped up in this life that I didn’t see, really see my need for a refilling of His breath?

I was bones, with tendons, flesh, and skin, but the breath was weak, faint. I hear the rattling, the rattling of bones coming together. I feel the flesh and skin being made new. He is exchanging that heart of stone for a heart of flesh.

It took losing a baby to see, to feel, to cry to Him. This is a blessing.  He is healing something  much deeper than a body. Was losing my baby a chance for Him to pull me near, and love on me? The chance for me to hear Him again?  Is this ache in my womb the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy?  Only He can satisfy!

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You're near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise