A Turning Point

Today, six weeks after having a c-section, I went for my first run in a long time. An out and back, turning around at a road one short mile away and walking home. It was only a mile or so, at what seemed like a turtle's pace, but it felt almost therapeutic. Probably was.


I have had a lot to think and wonder about these days. Lots of questions still flood my mind on almost a daily basis about Josiah's death - both physical questions about his condition and spiritual questions for God. The "whys" are still there, but things are a bit different lately.


In the first few weeks after my son died, the pain felt raw. A mention of Josiah's name sent me to tears, as did the sight of anyone else's beautiful newborn. As the days flew by, I continued to tell myself and others that I was not angry with God for what happened...just sad and disappointed.


Here's the real truth: I was angry. I wanted answers. I needed to know "why" - not so much an explanation of Josiah's physical sickness, but more so an explanation from God. I had finally accepted the fact that we will never know why Josiah was so sick, but I had not accepted what I perceived as God turning His back on us. I had been wrestling with God, unable to worship, pray, crack open my Bible, or enjoy church as I had previously. Until last Wednesday morning.


That morning I was up (and alert) somewhat early, with enough time to get ready for work and maybe read a bit before an invasion of my "little people". Being that we had church small group that night and I had not read the chapter, I got to it. We are currently reading "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan. (It's an incredible book with the potential to drastically change your walk with the Lord. Not small change. Big change. You have been warned.) The chapter was on being a "lukewarm Christian" and provided 18 descriptions of what that meant...absolutely convicting descriptions of which most of us fit the bill perfectly. I finished the chapter and walked away feeling like I wanted to be more and do more with my faith, but unsure of how to jump this hurdle of disappointment and hurt. Then, on my way to work, the chorus of a song I was listening to hit me hard:


There on the storm I am learning to let go
Of the will that I so long to control.
There may I be in your arms eternally
I thank you, Lord, you are the calmer of the storm.


During that 30-minute drive to work, crying most of the way and trying to avoid hitting Amish buggies and other drivers alike, I realized I had not let go of the anger and the desire for answers. I had not accepted that God is the one who is in complete control and knows all things, not me. He doesn't need to explain anything to us measly humans. If we knew all that God knows, then He wouldn't be God.


I was left with a choice to make: Do I continue in this life with a cloud around my head, living a "so-so" lukewarm Christian life, not living out my faith as I should be, and continually asking God "why"? Or do I relinquish control and accept His sovereignty?


As much as I want answers, deep down I know that I'll never have them this side of Heaven. I need to be okay with that. We all do.


So, yes, things are getting better day by day. That doesn't mean that Josiah isn't on my mind constantly or that I've "gotten over" his death. The grief, sadness, and crying are still there...just not as severe or painfully raw. I know there will be more highs and lows in the coming weeks, months, and years...and that it's okay to have those low days. But I also know that God is molding, teaching, and carrying us through.


Here is the song that I mentioned above. Just click the "Play" arrow. (Thank you, Kara, for the beautiful CD!)

"Calmer of the Storm", by Downhere: