Everyday seems a little more like life will go on. Everyday seems like we've not been abandoned. Everyday is filled with the loving arms of prayer surrounding us. We are incredibly appreciative. I've been trying to take a short moratorium on writing to help my heart settle. I've prayed. Probably for the first time in about 2 weeks.
Shame on me, I know. I should've hit my knees in prayer immediately. I should've cried out to heaven to heal my baby boy and create a miracle for the glory of heaven to be displayed. But that's not what my heart felt in those weeks. That's not what my heart was screaming the moment we found out.
My heart was pounding. My eyes were crying. And God was the last thing on my mind. My husband, sitting next to me, fighting tears, demanding answers, fighting for hope, losing the battle of the tears. That's what was on my mind. Hearing his fear. Hearing his hurt. Hearing and feeling his heart break. That's what I was thinking about. Feeling my whole body go numb. Feeling a cloud set in. Feeling the blood drain from my head. Feeling nothing. Feeling everything. Simultaneously. No, prayers weren't my first thought. God was an afterthought.
And as people began to link me to others who have endured similar things and as these people tell their story of healing (in some cases), share their stories of hope (sometimes), and tell of the graciousness of God's goodness (almost always), I found myself physically nauseated. I found myself silently screaming "What is WRONG with these people?!?!" And as the stories of blessings from the tragedies piled up, and as the well wishes poured in, I found myself asking "What the hell is wrong WITH ME?!?!" Why don't I feel blessed? Why don't I feel like God has chosen me to do something great? Why don't I feel like Everett's life should have eternal significance? Why don't I feel like God's purpose is greater than anything I can understand? Why do I feel like I'm the only Christian mom who thinks this sucks? Why am I the only Christian who thinks it's ridiculous to hear terrible, life changing, life STEALING news and throw my hands up in praise to the God who's ways are hidden to me?!?!?!
Am I that weird?
Or has RELIGION altered our perspective God? Has RELIGION somehow confused us... programmed us to not feel human? Do we somehow think we are to be so "spiritual" that it's inappropriate, nay sinful, to have feelings?
So, like SuperWhy (you understand if you have kids), when I have questions, I look in a book. And this is what JESUS has to say about attitudes(according to Matthew 5 in The Message Bible):
You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you, there is more of God and his rule.
You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
You're blessed when you get your inside world-- your mind and your heart-- put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.
So in other words-- ya know what? Shit happens. (We decided after Aiden continually painted walls, doors, and the like with his poop, that poop, in inappropriate, hard to clean places was shit. Plain and simple) In this life, there will be shit. It will make you feel like there's no hope. It will make you feel like you're all alone. It will make your heart get hurt. And, as crazy as it sounds, that's a good place to be... if you'll just ALLOW those things to be.
Because, Jesus goes on, you should:
Keep an open house. Be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.
He continues:
In prayer there is a connection between what God does and what you do. You can't get forgiveness from God, for instance, without also forgiving others. If you refuse to do your part, you cut yourself off from God's part. When you practice some appetite-denying discipline to better concentrate on God, don't make a production out of it. It might turn you into a small-time celebrity, but it won't make you a saint. If you 'go into training' inwardly, act normal outwardly. Shampoo and comb your hair, brush your teeth, wash your face. (my emphasis) GOD DOESN'T REQUIRE ATTENTION-GETTING DEVICES. He won't overlook you.
Sometimes it feels like Christianity has become such a RELIGION that the honesty of being a Christ follower is lost. Sometimes I feel like Christians somehow think that spouting scripture and praising God in the midst of a devastating crisis makes them more Christ like. Really? Because Jesus said, as he waited to be betrayed, beaten, and crucified, "Lord take this away" (ie, I don't really want to go through this, can't you see that?!?!?). And then as he hung dying, in unimaginable pain on the cross in front of EVERYONE TO SEE, he YELLS OUT to God "WHY have you left me alone?" (ie, didn't I do exactly what you said? Aren't I your son? Don't you love me? ... I'm at the end of MY rope. I'm at the end of MY strength... and WHERE are you, God who can do all things?)
You see, when Jesus was facing something he *felt* was insurmountable, he was honest about it. He didn't 'religiousify' it. He cried out, brokenhearted, mad, irritated, and feeling alone: What's your problem, Father? won't you help me? Where are you now?
Not exactly the way we've been 'programmed' to respond in crisis situations, is it? Somehow because we have the end of the Story, we're supposed to jump to James's instructions and go ahead and "count it all joy". We've been programmed to skip the pain because pain is somehow sinful. We've been programmed to "praise (him) in the storm". We've been somehow assured that feeling alone is un-Christian. That feeling hopeless is wrong. That it is denying the God we proclaim. That just because Jesus is our "Lord and Savior" we will go through trials but we should not go through pain. We should not go through emptiness. Because God is in control. Because God is with us.
Funny. Jesus did.
And he was perfect.
So back to the original paragraph...
I've been able to pray. For the first time in two weeks. But still really only for the protection of my boys, that no evil or harm will come to them in any form. This has been my bedtime prayer for a long, long time... and, as many of you could NEVER imagine (or at least not publicly admit), I felt a little betrayed by God. I felt like it didn't matter what I prayed for, God's gonna do whatever the hell he wants to anyway, right? Because He's in control. Because His ways are higher than our ways. Not because I was mad at God. But because I felt alone. Like my prayers didn't matter. Because when you feel alone, the last thing you want to do is be thankful for anything. Or ask for anything. At least *I* don't. A real person. Who thinks it's okay to know shit happens. Who thinks it's okay to yell at God and wonder why he's not here. To ask why his stupid plan crushed our family. Because I think it's normal, even in a Christian, to embrace a little of reality. Because I think that blindly praising God even you don't feel like it is sorta like one of those "attention getting devices". Because I think that putting on the "Christian" robe and walking around in constant joy no matter your circumstance is a little like being brainwashed and dipped in a cultish culture with an alternate reality that makes you a small time religious celebrity. But it won't make you a saint.
Because I'm not so sure we're supposed to be so out-of-tune with other people that we can't share the hurts. That we can't share the pain. That we can't *share* the humanity that links us all; the thing that we as religious Christians so diligently work to get rid of so we can be more "Christ like" (ie Baptist, particularly Southern Baptist). How are we to "open our houses (and our hearts) and live generously" to other people if we close them off? How are we supposed to "set our hearts right" if we actively deny what we feel in hard, painful situations? How are we supposed to support each other and reach out to each other if we make-believe that just because God is in control that it's all gonna be okay? How are we supposed to connect with each other if we isolate ourselves in our religious tradition? How are we supposed to teach honesty if we aren't honest with ourselves?
Ooo, or good "God question": How are we supposed to allow God to grow within us if we don't give him the room to do so? If we don't yell out "Where are you?" If we don't plead "Please make this go away"? If we don't give God room to show up because we're too busy being "Christians"? If we don't allow the hurt, the pain, the unrest, we'll never experience the peace of prayer. Strong in faith, in my brain, has little to do with outspoken praises in times of trouble. Has little to do with "counting it all joy". Strong faith, to me, means being able to admit you're hurt, you feel alone, and that you don't particularly want to go on; ...but in the midst of it, you know you're not alone... because you still cry out to God-- mad, hurt, and at the end of your rope.
And God will show up. Not always the way you want him to. Not always when you want him to. And not always in a way you can see. And sometimes not even a way you can feel at that moment. But if you give Him a chance, he'll show up. In a real way. Maybe not in a miracle. Maybe not in financial success. Maybe not in a beautiful home. Maybe not in a perfectly happy marriage. Maybe not in perfectly obedient children. Maybe not in resurrecting life.
But in peace. In the prayers of others. In the ability to pray again.
Because only in those things can you make it through the impossible reality of knowing your son will not live. With every kick. With every flip. Only in those things do you find the strength to go on. That's where God shows up when you're waiting for your baby to die-- whether it be as a miscarriage or in a stillbirth. That's where God shows up in real life. At least for me.
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