I want to start this post off by saying that GOD IS GOOD.  He can bring ruin from ashes and redemption from pain.  But following God does not mean we will live lives free from pain and anguish.  God allows us to go through those times in order to teach us, grow us, and restore us to Him.  He is good.  He is faithful...

Grief isn't an ocean. It's a wave. It keeps pummeling you every time you think you've broken free. Every time you finally are able to catch your breath. Every time you think "Finally I am past it. Finally I can keep my head above water and move forward from this place,"  It crashes over you again, pulling you under and shoving you back into the depths.

We had it all planned out from the moment we got our first positive pregnancy test. We planned how we would announce it, what the announcement picture would look like, how we would tell our families. Everything. I knew the plans I had for the next year as we prepared for our future child.  But God knew the plans He had for us.  He knew our child wouldn't make it. He knew it was time to call our precious baby home to Him. He knew my body and the baby were incompatible and it would be better for my child to come home to Him than for both of us to be at risk.

And while He knows the plans He has for us, He also knows our pain. He knows how I grieve and how I cry out for our loss. He knows that my heart screams out silently every day. He knows I want to crawl inside myself and hide away. He knows the guilt, shame, fear, and anger I feel. And He takes it all on. He bears my burdens with me. He doesn't force me to heal and "move on". He doesn't tell me "maybe you shouldn't talk about it if it makes you so sad". He listens, He comforts, He accepts my anger.

And I was, and sometimes still am, so so angry. I prayed over my child from the moment I had the positive pregnancy test. I prayed for protection for my baby. I promised God I would spend my life raising my child to love Him and serve Him. I promised to be a good steward of the gift God was giving me. I begged and pleaded for a safe pregnancy. And yet I lost our child.

On August 31, 2017 my world was shaken and I felt a loss unlike anything I have ever experienced before. In one day, the ultrasound went from showing something to nothing. That's how quickly my body rejected the pregnancy like it was nothing...like it wasn’t the most precious thing in my life. With each part of the miscarriage process my grief started anew, with a new wave crashing over me and crushing me down into the depths of despair.  Each time I found myself not thinking about our precious child, the grieving process started all over again. 

I often feel guilty for forgetting even for a second and feel ashamed for living my life happily again.  I feel the loss acutely. I feel anger that it happened to me. I feel confused as to how this could have happened. I feel terrified to try to conceive again. I feel loathing towards my body for betraying me and taking this from me. I feel numbness and shock as I try to wrap my mind around everything. I feel pain and a sort of anger with myself with every post I see of friends announcing a new pregnancy, or friends with happy, healthy pregnancies or with precious, whole, safe newborns. I feel frustrated that no one who hasn’t been through it understands my grief or cares to listen without saying "it'll be ok".

Miscarriage is not something that everyone can understand.  You do not truly understand the pain and emotional turmoil until it happens to you.  When my sister went through her miscarriage last year, I remember texting her and saying I was sorry and that God had a plan.  I did not know how much pain she was in and how much a heart can grieve over the loss of a human being that has never been held or touched.  I did not know the deep, jagged wounds miscarriage carves into a human heart.  I did not understand that no words can ease the pain.  There is no "right thing to say".

It won't be ok. It never will be. And that is ok.  God heals all wounds. Yes, wounds leave scars. And I will forever have deep, jagged, painful emotional scars that will be with me for the rest of my life. The waves of grief will become fewer and farther in between, yes, but they will still come.  But even so, God is good. 

God is good. His grace is abundant.  He is the giver of life.  He is the God of miracles.  He walks beside me and I know He will not not abandon me, no matter how rough the road of life may become.  Through this process, He is teaching me that He alone can fill this hole in my heart.  I need to be patient in the process and stop continually working towards "the next thing".  It is through seasons of pain and grief that He does the biggest and most impactful work.  

God alone can mend this hole in my heart.  Not Patrick.  Not my family.  Not work.  Nothing.  I must choose to let go and let God do His will in my life.  Letting go of my expectations, my timeline, and my hopes and dreams is the only way I can find peace, patience, and understanding.  Grief cannot overtake me so much that I miss out on the blessings God has in store for me and Patrick.  God brings beauty and life out of the ashes and dust of painful times.  We only have to trust.

Marriage and Re-marriage

As we grow older and move forward in life, there will be things, memories, and histories accumulated that we may not necessarily be proud of or want to share.  It’s a normal part of life to have regrets and to make mistakes.  The biggest, and most important, thing is how we choose to react and move forward from those moments. 

In my life, there have been plenty.  I made countless poor choices as a teenager—choices that endangered my life, hurt my family, and hurt others I cared about.  In my college career, I allowed myself to fall into the suffocating grasp of anorexia and exercise bulimia.  What ensued was a two-year battle to reclaim my body and my mind.  Even as an adult, I have made my mistakes.  But, the important thing is, I have learned from all of my mistakes.  I know now how deeply my poor choices can affect those around me.  I have learned how quickly eating healthy, exercising, and monitoring my weight can turn to obsession with loosing more and more pounds on the scale.  And, after a failed marriage, I learned what I do and do not want in a marriage; but, more importantly, I learned what a marriage really is.

If you have read my earlier posts, by now you know I have been married before.  I got married relatively young (at the age of 23—engaged at 22) and did not truly understand marriage.  All I knew was, he made me happy, he said he loved me, and that was all I needed.  It didn’t matter that every single person in my life cautioned me against it—they said it was too soon, he wasn’t right, we didn’t know each other well enough (and they were right).  But, I was too stubborn to admit it or take a step back.  I am not speaking ill of my ex-husband.  But, what I am saying is we were clearly very wrong for each other and too young and immature to realize it.  Things obviously did not work out, but, God always has a plan for our lives and He will ALWAYS redeem the deep valleys in our lives.

For a while there, I wasn’t sure I would ever find someone I would be 100% certain and comfortable enough with to get re-married.  Sure, they may have been people I cared about or loved, but never someone I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I would never have any hesitations about.  Being that I have been married before, I knew what I wanted to bring to the table if I ever re-married, and I knew what I needed him to bring as well.

1.  I knew it would be all about the marriage itself, not the big elaborate ceremony.

I will admit, my first wedding was way too big.  It was grand, it was elaborate, it was fancy.  And it so wasn’t me.  At the end of it all, I was too stressed out about tiny, insignificant details to truly be present during the vows and to remember any of it.  The wedding ceremony had zero emotional weight to it because of the “show” of it all.  None of the focus was on the fact that I was about to commit to spend the rest of my life with someone.

I knew that the next time, all it would be about was me and him, standing before God and committing to a covenant relationship between us before God.  Nothing else would matter to me.  You aren’t committing to this big elaborate show.  You are committing to a lifetime of work and loving this person.

2.  I know what marriage truly is about and what it takes.

Marriage is not about finding someone you are attracted to, who also happens to have a great personality, who you like hanging out with.  All of that (minus the attraction thing) are what you look for in a friend.  Marriage is hard work.  Marriage is a commitment.  It is a choice.  Yes, it is a lot of fun.  You get to spend every day with your best friend.  But, it isn’t all fun. 

Once you get married, you are no longer this individual entity.  Your identity becomes you as a couple.  You make choices together.  But you also have to make sure you don’t get lost in his identity.  You have to learn to grow as a couple,  yes, but also grow in your own right.  You become stronger in Christ, and more unified.  But you also challenge each other, push each other to grow and to be more.  You push each other to succeed.

You compromise (a lot).   There will be arguments.  You will have to suck up your pride and apologize.    You must adapt and evolve and be open with that person to ensure your marriage will weather the storms.  When you fight, it cant be about you and your hurts and your anger.  You have to realize the power your impulsive words have over your life partner.  Words yelled in a moment of heightened emotion can carry over into the future moments of your marriage.

You have to choose to love that person every single day, even when the mushy-gushy newlywed feelings fade or aren’t there at all.  You have to keep the romance alive, keep dating them, keep doing little things to show them that you love them and think of them.  Marriage is work—but the results you reap are more than worth the effort.

3.  I knew what he had to value above everything else, including me.

No matter how much I may like a guy and feel like he is perfect, I knew he had to be a certain kind of man.  I knew he had to have a heart for the Lord and that he needed to be a man who encouraged me in my own walk with the Lord.  He needed to value not only his own relationship with the Lord, but also mine.  He needed to be just as concerned with my spiritual walk as he is with his.  He had to be willing to, and want to be, a spiritual leader for us as a married couple.  He needed to be the “iron that sharpens iron” in Proverbs.  Yes, I want us both to grow in our individual walks, but I want him to see the value in studying, praying, and growing together too. 

4.  I knew what kind of man he needed to be.

It takes a special kind of man to put up with my crazy self.  I am impulsive, stubborn, naïve, forgetful, OCD, emotionally driven…need I go on?  Granted, I have a lot of good qualities, if I say so myself.  But, in every relationship, you will eventually unearth the not-so-fun qualities in a person.  I knew the man I married would need to be patient, slow to frustration, levelheaded, analytical, easy going, and willing to call me out when I am being a dumb-head.  The biggest thing out of all of those, is someone who is not afraid to tell me when I am being ignorant, stupid, or naïve.  Sometimes, I make choices or do things that I don’t realize at the time are not healthy for me.  And sometimes, when family calls me on it, I am not receptive to hearing it.   I knew I needed someone who would not be afraid to say “you are being an idiot” and to lay it all out for me—in a patient and loving but stern manner, of course.

I truly could go on and on about this.  But I truly feel everything else would fall under these categories.

Why are you posting this?  Many of you are probably thinking.  As most of you may know, I recently remarried.  Well, just know, the strong, intelligent, kind, forgiving, patient, godly man I married met all of these criteria and beyond.  Heck, I could do whole blog post about the man he is (and maybe I will).  But, for those of you who are dating, seriously committed in a relationship, or engaged…I  challenge you to learn from my experience and to never ever settle.  It may seem like there will never be anyone you feel 100% about or who will meet every single thing on your list (yes, you know you have a list).  But TRUST ME!  He is out there.  Sometimes, God’s timing and plan takes some time.  But the end result is ALWAYS worth the wait.  And I praise God for His perfect timing in bringing me the man he set aside for me.