Comfort

The verse on the sidebar of the blog, which also gives the blog its name, has been precious to Jason and I over the last few years as we have walked through some very steep valleys.  After dealing with infertility, we endured three pregnancy losses before Harper, watching so many of our family and friends being blessed with new babies and longing for our own version of that dream.

Meanwhile, we made trips to Rochester to visit my dad at Mayo after he suffered a sudden brain aneurysm and surgery to correct it.  After he was given a great prognosis and returned to health (praise the Lord), we started the journey of Jason's mom's illness and coming to see her in Sioux Falls and then Milwaukee, WI.  I was pregnant with Harper by then, and even as we watched Helen get weaker, we never dreamed that she wouldn't be around enjoy her newest grandchild.  She passed away when Harper was 8 weeks old, and we are so happy that the two "H.J."s got to meet, but so sad that she's not on earth to see Harper prance around in high heels :) 

Through all of that, I loved the Lamentations passage because it gave me permission to remember my pain, to acknowledge it.  The author says he well remembers the bitterness and the gall, and his heart is downcast.  That was how I felt--downcast.  After my miscarriages, the reactions that hurt me the most were the ones where people (I'm sure because they were uncomfortable or didn't know what to say) ignored the loss.  I know they did not mean any harm, but not acknowledging our sorrow made it worse for me.  Even if it was just a small word, I so appreciated those who made an effort to remember and share my pain.  One of the losses took place in January, when school was in session, and my principal told one of my classes what was going on.  I will never forget the sincere and honest sympathy I received from so many of those high school juniors and how impressed I was with their bravery and heartfelt empathy. One of the reasons I love my job!

But back to Lamentations...the author does not only recall his pain.  He goes on to offer hope. Yes, things are hard.  Yes, this sucks.  BUT...we are not consumed by it.  I like the deliberate word choice the author uses when he says, "this I call to mind..." and "I say to myself...".  He has to remind himself purposefully of the Lord's great love and the ways His compassion is new every morning. Each new day, God provides new evidence of his care and love. Each day, He is enough to get us through.

I am reminding myself of all of this again because of the place where I find myself today. I know this is for the best, I know it will be worth it, but man, was last night hard.  Jason is just the best dad, but Harper and I have our own little groove, and we were both missing each other at bedtime.  I usually sing to her, so Jason put us on speaker while he rocked her, and she kissed and hugged the phone :)  Eventually that wasn't good enough for her little 19-month old understanding, though, and she wanted me there.  I had to hang up so that J didn't have to deal with two crying girls at the same time. She settled down quickly and slept fine, but those sobs of "Mommy! Mommy!" just rang in my head. She knows something is up--this isn't just Mommy seeing a movie or getting a pedicure :) And I miss her so much.  It sucks.

But the Lord reminded me today that He is good. I am thankful for a wonderful place for Harper to go play today (thanks Bonnie and Alex!).  I am thankful for a few unexpected visitors this morning to brighten things up.  I am thankful for friendly nurses.  I am thankful for the Mt. Dew stash my sister left in my room before I checked in yesterday.  I am thankful for the newest member of our neighborhood (welcome, Shiloh)!  I am thankful Lyncoln's surgery sounds like it was successful.  I am thankful I don't have to shingle a roof or pave a road in this heat :)  The list could go on. 

The Lord is my portion, and therefore I will wait for Him.