August 8, 2011

He Never Forgets

I fingered the picture frame that carried my husband and my big announcement. The little frame held an ultrasound photo of our first child with the caption, “Coming this fall.” Four rounds of clomid, shots and countless doctor appointments, and finally we received the news we had been praying for. A baby.

The little frame traveled across the country to live in the home of our baby's grandparents. It was sent with love, excitement, and so much happiness and was received with so much joy. No one knew what the future held. No one knew the baby would only be with us a few weeks before Jesus called him home.

We were later visiting where our little frame had come to live. As my eyes traveled the room, something familiar caught my attention. I knew that frame; there was no mistaking those silver filigree sides. My eyes had poured over that picture numerous times memorizing its features. Each line and swirl I had traced. The image staring back at me was not the black and white image of my baby. This picture was a picture of a living and breathing child. A child full of life and smiles. A knife stabbed my heart and twisted into my gut. My child had been replaced by a living child. A child that I did not know; a child that was not mine.

I slipped into bed as a slow steady stream of tears fell. I longed for my child to be known, to be recognized, to be remembered. I longed for THEM to remember but they didn't. After all, who remembers a baby lost at ten weeks gestation? Me. Soon my tears turned into a raging river and with such passion I screamed “WHY, God?” There was no answer and I soon cried myself to sleep.

I woke up the next morning and opened my Bible, searching for comfort. Searching for some quiet whisper from my God. The silence was just too much. I needed something from Him. And He answered my calling by giving me these words:

Remember your word to your servant,
for you have given me hope.
My comfort in my suffering is this:
Your promise preserves my life.
~ Psalms 119:49-50

His promise. Not that bad things wouldn't happen to me. Not that grief would never come. He said it would be painful; he said bad things would happen; he said people would let me down; he promised to preserve my life; he promised to be faithful; he promised to never leave me, to comfort me, to sustain me. To remember.

See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.
~ Isaiah 49:16

Oh, dear Sisters. He knows your pain, He sees it, He never forgets. When the rest of the world moves on and leaves you with grief to bear, He is there to carry you. He is there to remember with you those treasured moments, even if just a few days, weeks or months. He will never replace our photo with a different one. He is there in our death and in our life! He IS the God of comfort, of all compassion, and He loves us where we are. Amen!

Carissa along with her family are Texas transplants currently living in Illinois. She tries hard to see God's rainbows in the rainstorms of life. Having struggled with infertility and loss her prayer is that her story would bring glory to his name. She loves to indulge in Christian romance novels, craft soap recipes, create cards and work in her garden.

Author Website: A Table for Eight