I Told You

Last November I had the opportunity to share a story with some of the women at my church. I told them the story of how I came to know and trust in God's unfailing goodness. I told them of the long and winding journey that I have taken in the land of pregnancy and miscarriages. I cried. They cried. It wasn't a sad story, though. No, it was a hopeful story. A story about the gifts God gives us and how even though sometimes the wrapping is ugly and you think nothing good could possibly be inside...somehow you find the jewel, the treasure that was in there all along and you realize that His gifts are good and perfect.

When I was done sharing my story an older lady approached me and whispered in my ear that her daughter had had 11 miscarriages. I couldn't do anything but cry with her and hug her and repeat, "I'm so sorry. It is real suffering. But I know that God is good. I promise you that he is." She gave me a weak smile and I knew she didn't quite believe me. How could she when she and her daughter were in the middle of that dark, dark valley? I understood.

I don't really know this woman very well at all. Only through prayer requests had I learned that her daughter was pregnant again. I heard sporadic updates about the progress of her daughter's pregnancy. How they had passed big milestones. How they wanted to be excited but found themselves detaching so that the pain and disappointment couldn't touch them. How they could scarcely believe she was two weeks away from her due date. How they were still expecting to be hurt. I understood.

I understood because even though I have had two healthy babies and the expectation that this third baby will also be healthy and beautiful, I still have to ask God to show me daily that He is good. I do silly things like read "dead baby blogs." You know the ones I'm talking about. The blogs of mothers who have miscarried, or lost their children in childbirth or shortly after. They process their grief and honor their babies and allow the world to watch their journey back to wholeness. And even though I am proof that it is possible, I read them because I have this need to see that it is possible to have life after death--after something, or someone who has been inside of you dies. Even though I know this can happen because I'm living it, I need to see that I'm not the only one.

On Tuesday I heard that this woman's daughter had just given birth to her first little girl. I cannot begin to describe the heights that my heart soared to. I wanted to sing, to laugh, to dance. I wanted to rush to the woman's house and jump up and down with her and say, "I told you! I told you!" Not in a bragging or gloating way, please don't misunderstand me. I wanted to share in her rejoicing and point her back to the source of that joy.

I don't know if they recognize the treasure yet. I imagine their eyes are still adjusting to the brightness of the beautiful gift they have just been given. But I hope that in time they will look back on their journey through the valley and see how God was giving good gifts all along. I hope they will know and trust that He is always good and that He has always been good. And I really hope that one day this woman and I will be able to tell yet another woman that God is good and then tell her, "I told you!" when her hope is fulfilled.