And If Not

There's a beautiful worship song that's become pretty "popular" among Christians/churches/worship services. (Warning, this YouTube version is significantly long.)

Oceans

You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand

And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You've never failed and You won't start now

So I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

This last Winter and Spring Andrew and I started praying pretty hard, about many things, but one being what God would have our family look like. Not going to lie to you, adding a 3rd child to our family and buying a house in that mix had been a pretty taxing thing on me. I've written about how God has called me to a deeper knowing Him, a deeper relationship, a new awareness of my dreams and callings. But that isn't always a pretty picture in the happening. I lost my patience many times with a toddler who doesn't communicate well, with a preschooler and grade-schooler who don't have understanding of "personal space" or time even. I felt like I'd lost my calling as a Mom. God has been so gracious to walk us through this, as I'm still walking in it many days. My husband, he's learning to give me space and time, and he's always supported my endeavors.

All this to say, that having 3 kids (2 miscarriages too) in 4 years, it was a lot. I needed to take some deep breathes, spiritually, physically, and emotionally. But by this Spring we walked ahead with confidence, that God was calling us to pursue another child. Please note that I didn't say "giving birth to another baby". Because with our experiences, we knew pursuing pregnancy doesn't mean a healthy baby on the other end. I literally told the 2 friends in the Bible study I was doing at the time, "We know we need to do this, no matter the outcome, be it a healthy full-term baby, a preemie, a stillbirth, a miscarriage, secondary infertility, whatever the outcome, God is calling us to this." 

Such boldness and faith we held in our hearts. And so we started the process. When you've dealt with many rounds of infertility and some simple crazy birth stories, you know deeply how much of a miracle each of your children really are and that it can be a long road. Which is how it felt the first 2 months. All to result in a negative test and starting the process again. Except it didn't. So I checked in with my Dr. "Take another test." Fine, more money down the drain it felt like. Except it wasn't. Positive?! I love seeing the goofy grin on my husband's face when he hears/sees this. I am NOT one of those woman who keeps something like this to myself for a while. Andrew knows immediately. And usually one friend so I can babble without annoying my husband. 

Fast forward, a new dr, several visits, not knowing my exact due date because of the craziness of treatments, an ultrasound, a "come back next week and we'll check again." 

Because that little line at the top of the black circle felt like it held all our hope. A smidgen of a baby, but one that didn't seem big enough. But truthfully? Our hope still lay with Christ. With the calling God had given us. Because as the song "Oceans" says

Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You've never failed and You won't start now

That was the last picture we'd have of our baby. The next week just brought the news that our baby hadn't grown, and in fact was gone. I'll spare you the details but we had to make some choices for my safety and chose a procedure later that week. God was in the details. My Mom was visiting and was such a blessing to our family and our kiddos that week. 

And our kiddos, we told them, they tried to process the loss of joy over a new sibling they hadn't known about. And when they asked, we asked them to pray, to have the Spirit share with them if our baby had been a boy or girl, and what the baby should be named. 

The next week, when I was still getting my strength back, Levi came into our room before bedtime, and he shared that the baby should be a girl because he wanted to name her Josie. Because he liked the name and it was a good name for our baby. 
Josie: May Jehovah add or "God will give"
So fitting for a baby that was indeed given by God, and added to our family. 

I wish I could show you all the notes and projects that our kids have made since the end of July. They grieve in their own ways. Just this week Levi showed me what looked like a math project "4+6=10  family" (He totally counts the dog as a member of the 6 in our living family.) 
4 siblings in Heaven, + 6 "people" here on earth = 10 our family. 

My grieving? I'm not sure what it's looked like. More peace. Our previous miscarriages were after Levi, before our other two living kiddos. More unknown, less hope, more loss. And less knowing God of who He really is. I never doubt that God has this path laid out for our family. For me. Is it easy? No. Is it Fun? No. Is it financially difficult? Yes. Would I choose it? I can't answer that, because in my human frailty I'd much rather avoid all the heartache. But I would choose the grief and pain everyday for the work God has done. I have a longing for Heaven that I would never have had unless I knew that I would meet 4 children there someday. We're studying what Heaven is really like, now and in the 1000 years and eternity to come of the New Heaven on Wednesdays at church right now. And the first week I was given a picture in my head, of my dear Grandma Otto, who lost a baby herself, who loved me and taught me to trust Jesus, to cling to Him, of her and my 4 children, just watching, and waiting, and praising God in the meantime. And I felt an urgency, to be there with them, to be whole in the presence of Christ. 

What I do know in this grieving process, is that it is of God. My version of good is NOT His. I know that my husband and I have had better talks than before. That this is OUR grief, not mine alone. That our kids constantly bringing up Josie and the babies is hard, much harder than imagined, but it's caused me to not stuff, but to reiterate on a daily basis the truth about the goodness of God to them. "Levi and Emelia, can we trust that even if we don't think something is good or right that God has a perfect plan and we can trust Him always?" 

So I'm walking in trust. I'm fighting daily for trust. That when my days feel dark and less than hopeful, when I'm tired of being sad, of feeling "broken", of my body feeling like my enemy, that God is still good. 
I've dealt with postpartum depression before, and it seems as though my hormones are taking that ride this time too. But I'm fighting back, and also embracing the sadness. Because by saying that it's hard, it gives the enemy, Satan and evil itself, way less power. Because the truth of God needs to be spoken, out loud, over and over. The worship music gets played when the day seems dark. When I can't sing the words, I trust that they are still being written on my heart, that God's glory is still being proclaimed through my life. 

Which makes "Oceans" so true:
Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior


My faith will be made stronger. It is. And I WILL walk where He will call. I have to proclaim that, cling to that truth, even when my flesh fails and it doesn't feel like the truth. 

Which brings us to this Sunday. It was a day we missed a lot of the worship at church, but we sang a version of "It is Well" and my entire being rebelled. "It doesn't feel well Lord, my soul feels anything but well right now. I'm tired Jesus, I'm tired of the fight, the fight to be well and not sink into despair. I'm tired of fighting my flesh and of clinging desperately. I need to be held."
And then in the sermon, the truth of God proclaimed "Only Christ's righteousness is our identity." It's not about me, my striving. Oh I need to work, literally workout and keep my hormones in check, I need to do the work of fighting my flesh and be in the Bible daily, of clinging to my Savior. But that clinging is to a Savior who is already holding me. I cling, but I am never in danger of being dropped if my grip loosens. In fact it can. I can rest, I can fall into trust. 

We closed the service yesterday by singing "Good Good Father" 

And as we sang over and over 

"You are perfect in all of your ways

Oh, You are perfect in all of your ways

You are perfect in all of your ways to us"

The tears flowed and my heart said "Yes, embrace this. If you don't believe this, it is all for nothing. Your hope rests on this."

And today I proclaim it again, He is perfect in all of His ways. We said Yes to God this Spring no matter what. If He gave us life to hold and raise and cherish for this life on earth, AND IF NOT, HE IS STILL GOOD. 

And today, He is STILL good. In this death, this life, this walk of faith, in this grief, not in spite of it. 

You're a Good Good Father. Perfect in ALL of your ways. And we praise you.