If it isn't clear by now, this journey for me is extremely spiritual. I have always believed in God. My parents took us to church when we were little. My mom prayed the Lord's Prayer with me every night before bed until I could recite it back to her on my own. We prayed before dinner every night. The seed was planted long ago. I can remember being a little girl, and me being me, was deeply distressed by the Gulf War. I thought about my dad and how I was so happy he wasn't fighting far away and in danger. And I thought about all the other little girls out there whose daddies were fighting, in danger, dying. And I prayed. I don't know why I remember this but I do. I prayed all the time for those daddies and their families. And I couldn't have been more than 10 years old. So yes, I have always believed in God, in praying, in the hope that He hears us. But it wasn't until recently when I met my husband that I started attending church regularly, reading and studying the bible and developing a deeper relationship with God. And I suppose that is why I feel so incredibly let down by Him. You can't feel let down by someone you never knew. I began to know Him, to love Him, to want to live for Him...and then my world fell apart. And I am left with the pieces, struggling to hold on to a faith that was so young and vulnerable to begin with.
How do I continue to believe in God, prayer, the hope that He hears us when it seems to me that so many of my prayers go unanswered? I used to believe that Riley was an answer to prayer, but now I can't help but sometimes wonder if I just got lucky with her. I see examples all around me, three very specific ones just recently, of pregnant women who have something happen to them that could potentially have threatened the life of their babies. But every single one of them got through it fine and so did their baby...a miracle. Thank God for those miracles in their lives. But I am beginning to think miracles are for other people, not for me. I look back at my personal journal and with each new pregnancy I have expressed hope and excitement despite my past losses and each time it is proven I should not feel those things. How naive I am to think I have the luxury of feeling hope and excitement at the sight of a positive pregnancy test.
Maybe it's a bad day, maybe it is the darkness slowly creeping back in. Or maybe it is just the process of grief. The ebb and flow of grieving, dealing, trying to cope and heal. I hate doubting God. I hate questioning His infinite wisdom, His plan. But when I ask with an open heart and His answer is no time and time again, it is very hard to hang on to what I believe. But I am hanging on. As confused and upset as I am with Him right now, I can't imagine a life without Him. I can't imagine living life without the knowledge that my sins are forgiven because of Jesus. I can imagine nothing worse than to live in a world where God does not exist, where there is no redemption, where the hope of ever seeing my little babies is completely gone. So I hang on, I cling with all my might. And hope that one day He will redeem this pain and that I will find peace with a God who loves me enough to send His only son to die for me, but who is also the same God that allows me to suffer so much.
I love you always and forever and no matter what.
No comments:
Post a Comment