I thought I ought to wait until the initial sting of loss had passed before I wrote this. But why? Isn't pain a universal language? Can't we learn and bond and grow together through it?
I went in for an ultrasound yesterday. I was 18 weeks and expecting to discover the baby's gender. My kids waited anxiously at home. My husband was asleep in Japan, expecting to wake up and learn great news. Instead, we repeated a nightmare.
This happened to us before. Four years ago I was 17 weeks and learned the same thing, staring at an ultrasound, knowing before they said a word. I remember the way the tech slowly turned the screen from my sight. They did that again yesterday. It wasn't until I sat down with my doctor that I was given the news straight up.
It hurts.
It will go on hurting.
I will be afraid to ever try this again.
But the only thing I can think today, over and over, repeating in my mind like a broken record, is this:
Show me Your glory.
God, show me what you can do with this. Show me how big You are. Show me. You don't have to convince me. I'm already convinced. Show me. I want to see it. I'm sitting on the edge of my chair.
My eyes are red ringed and my head aches from heaving sobs all night.
And I want to see it. What will You do with this? How will You use it? Oh, God, I can't wait to see it.
Show me. Show me.
I'll wait. I'll hurt and I'll heal. As long as You show me.
I want to see Your glory so bad it aches.
