Walking through the Valley

On Friday as I prepared my work calendar for the next week’s reports, my eyes came to rest on the word ‘October’.  And without conscious thought on my part, I was propelled back to the year 2003.

While others are preparing for a season of cooler weather, pumpkin spice lattes, football, and all things fall, I am transported back to a year of job loss, no health insurance, an accidental pregnancy, fear, and all of the emotions that come with the unplanned whirlwinds of this life.  

I’m transported back to feelings of helplessness and the fear this brings.  I hear myself asking the questions once again: How will we provide for another one?  How will we pay for my healthcare?  What if this darling baby also ends up in the Neonatal unit?  Will we survive leaving another child behind at the hospital as we go home empty handed, our emotions raw?  How will I possibly have enough love to go around?  Can I love three kids well?

I find myself reliving the intense roller coaster of loss, fear, questioning, growth, acceptance, victory, and joy.  I once again feel the unexplainable happiness of bringing our firstborn daughter home.  The overwhelming gratefulness of God’s gift to us.  The thankfulness for her life even though unplanned on our part.  I once again marvel in awe and wonder at the faithfulness of our God and His plans for our lives.

But this happy detour or repose from the storm doesn’t end there.  While we are still astounded by God’s mercy, while still pondering His faithfulness and lovingkindness in the midst of our unfaithfulness, questioning, and doubt; the unimaginable happens.

The life we fought so hard against in the beginning because she came when we didn’t want her.  When we weren’t financially ready.  When we were too afraid to try pregnancy again.  That mortal being, the one we came to love more than we ever imagined, was ripped out of our arms without warning.  The shock of her life and death, still a surging and violent disturbance if I look at it through the lenses of my own selfish rights, plans, or desires.

But today, I choose to look at it through the goggles of grace and the lenses of truth.  I have two choices.  I can hold onto my selfishness and see the unfairness of it all, or I can see the trial as a gift.  I can look at my darling Audrey as someone I was entrusted to steward and care for within a very small window of time.  I can see my life during that time as a sacrificial offering of service to my King.  One where my love, support, provision, and care were used to bring joy and comfort to someone else for the short time they had on this earth.  I can see it as a time of pouring out for someone else, a call to selfless living.  I can react like Joseph to his brothers in Genesis 50:20a (NKJV) But as for you, you meant evil against me, but God used it for good.  I can place my vision on my Master’s face saying to the storm, ‘Yet will I trust in Him’ (Job 13:15a NKJV).  

The whys no longer plague my mind.  The reason we were required to walk through the 2003 of our lives no longer a question I want answered.  Instead I hope and pray that God will use what we walked through for His good.  That we will live each day with open hearts and hands, fully surrendered to His plans for our lives.  Romans 8:28 (NLT) And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them.