In His Presence

This morning I sat in awe and tears. For the first time in the last 6 years, I finally see the story of my life flowing toward a complete circle. There is a part of our adoption story that I haven't shared in detail here yet. It's so exciting to me to share this part of our story, however, I am struggling to put it into words. But today is the day.

I need to back up a few days, actually. You know how there is this app called Timehop? Well for those of you that may not know, it links to your Facebook and it shows you a daily picture of what you posted on your Facebook on that day for every year before. It's really been fun to see different posts I've made during different seasons of life, or pictures of my kids as they were younger. But then there are also days when I am reminded of hard stuff.

For those of you that don't know us or are newer friends, we lost our second son, Kristopher, through stillbirth 6 years ago on August 1 at 37 1/2 weeks. You can read more about our journey through all of that starting HERE. So, for the past few weeks, I've been seeing status updates that I had written 6 years ago as I was getting ready to give birth to him.  I've been reading as I posted about different moments of my pregnancy that were funny or special and even ordinary. I have smiled as I remembered that one time when he did somersaults in my belly after I ate Red Lobster, or all the nights that he kicked like crazy while I was trying to go to sleep. I'm so thankful I treasured those moments. And I have laughed at the funny comments that little 3 year old Stephen said about my big belly.

 Then on Thursday, I read this post:

And I cried. I cried because I realized that this was most likely the last day that I had spent with my baby while he was still alive. I cried because I wish I had listened to my body. I cried because of how different life could have been. I cried because I was angry, because I was sad, because it's just not fair. 6 years later and it's still not fair. It will never be ok. 

I'm not one of those people that give fluff answers. You will never hear me say something like "Everything happens for a reason." Or "God doesn't give you more than you can handle." (Because He does. That's another post, though.) You won't hear me say, "Just hang in there. It will get better." You won't even hear me say, "I understand how you feel." I have always tried to be very honest about my experience of dealing with grief. The raw truth of emotions and words that sometimes we don't like to admit we felt or said.  I often hear people that have gone through the same kind of grief say something like, "I have to be grateful because if that hadn't have happened, I wouldn't know the kids I have now, or I wouldn't be where I am now if that hadn't have happened," and I'm happy for them that they find peace in those thoughts. But I can't even say that, because it took us 3 years to have another baby.  (It's a good story, you should read it sometime.) But I think to myself,  I could have totally had both of my babies and I believe God could have used some other experience to get me to where I am now. 

I don't know. Not here. Not now. I don't know. One day, though, I will see it all and understand it all clearly. 

BUT for now, on this side of Heaven...I AM grateful. I may not be grateful for what happened.  But I am so grateful to Christ for the hope that He has given me. I AM a different person than I was before. Whether I would have been changed with or without the loss of my son, I don't know. But I am thankful to have been changed. I am thankful that God didn't decide to leave me where I was in my sorrow, but that He taught me how to name it and to find the beauty and to make that beauty grow. And to find JOY. He showed me what it was like to be totally and completely dependent upon Him. Which is turns out is the only place I want to be.

 I will never forget the year following his death. How much I learned about who God is and how much I grew as His child. And if I am completely honest, as hard as it is to say, I would not trade that time of growing closer to Him for anything in this world, even if it meant I could have my baby back. Hear me say...I wish it could have been another way. Every day. For the rest of my life. But that is the event that God chose to use to mold me into who I am today. I don't understand for one second his reasoning, but I don't have to. Because I have learned to TRUST Him. I truly trust the Lord, more than I ever would have had I not been through this tragedy. I wish it had been something else. Anything really. A tornado, losing my house, anything. But I trust Him. And I love Him. Oh how I love Him. Because oh how He loves me.

And that brings me to today. 6 years later. Thursday night when I was crying over the Facebook status that I read, Justin held me and cried with me. And then he looked at me and said, "It's so not fair, but God is making it right again." And he is so right. That was the first time that it really connected. When I made the circle in my mind of where we used to be and where we are now. We are about one month (give or take a week or two) away from finalizing the adoption of our little boy in China. Chen Qi Long. Silas. (I still haven't written a post about his name, but I will.) Have you noticed that Silas is 6 years old? 

I have hesitated to post about this part of our story, because I think that honestly I feel a little guilt over it. When we were praying about adoption, we knew that we wanted a child that was around the same age that Kristopher would have been. Simply because it fit. It seemed right for our family. Stephen would be the oldest, yet Sean would still be the baby and it fit. In no way, shape or form will another child EVER be able to replace Kristopher, nor would we try to do that. But there is a small part of my heart that cries out sometimes, "Please don't forget!" But the fact that Silas is 6 years old is not even the point of this story.

Remember when we first received his file and we said that there were some facts that stood out to us that just really grabbed us? One of those was the day he was abandoned. I will never forget what I felt as I read the date that he was found. August 15, 2010. My heart literally felt like it stopped in my chest. Before I even read his story to find out where he was found, how old he was, how much he weighed and all of the other things that I eventually read through streams of tears,  Two weeks to the day after I had just begun to learn how to say goodbye to my baby,  this sweet baby boy having to say goodbye to his mommy. Two weeks to the day after I had experienced the worst pain of my life, she was experiencing the worst pain of her life. I knew that God had taken my heart and this precious little baby's heart and his sweet mama's heart and began the process of knitting them all together. Two moms without a baby and a baby without a mom. Two souls, two worlds apart, yet with two very broken hearts. And the only answer is Jesus.

Qi Long giving me so much more than a snack.

I know without a shadow of a doubt that Silas was chosen by God to be our son. For many reasons, and God has confirmed that to me. But I can't deny that this piece of information was essential in me finding him. I don't claim to understand God's ways. And the struggles that we will face will not be easy. I would give anything to know who his mama is, who for whatever reason had to make the choice that she did, but still chose to give him life. In a world where she could have easily done otherwise. She chose him. But before she chose him, God had chosen him. And He also chose me.

So to try and wrap up my messy thoughts, back to this morning. Normally our family takes the day off on August 1 and does something special together. This year we are attending the first day of a huge conference. My kids are in VBS this week and we are separated by a few walls. And Justin and I are in meetings. And to be honest, I was a little sad that it would be this way this year. I knew it was coming. But I found out that I was right where God wanted me to be. In His presence. 

We experienced corporate worship for the first time in over 2 years this morning. We have had small group worship, either with a downloaded Youtube video, or Justin and I trying to fumble our way through a song on the guitar. (which please don't get me wrong, there is sweet worship to be found in small groups) But this was worship, with hundreds of other people. All lifting up their voices to the author and perfector of our faiths. Christ alone, Cornerstone. The weak made strong in the Savior's love. Through the storm, He is Lord, Lord of all. All I could do was lift up my hands and cry tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears of relief, tears of feeling His love falling fresh on my weary heart. Tears of gratefulness. And then, on top of all of it, I was able to sit and listen to a sermon by the author that God used to completely change my life during that season of grief. And for the first time in 6 years, I saw the circle. And it's almost completed. I know it's not going to end. It will be a spiral and I will get to watch God do wonder after amazing wonder in my life from now until I go Home to be with Him. But today was priceless. And it was the exact gift that my good good Father knew I needed.

When I got back to my room before I had lunch, I checked Facebook really quick. And within the first 10 posts I read, two different friends of mine had posted about how they were grieving their babies who were gone too soon. Two different women who experienced the same kind of grief, at different times and with different circumstances, but the same broken hearts. Those two posts reminded me that I'm not alone. And that with each story of sorrow, there is a story of joy on the other side that God wants to give. If you are reading this and you have experienced loss, in any form, I am praying for you right now. I pray that you will find your circle. And that it will keep going until you see Jesus face to face.

I love you all. Thank you for sharing this day with me. Thank you for listening to my heart. Thank you for your prayers and for always loving me. Even through the rough times. Thank you for your messages and comments. They mean the world to me. Just the fact that you remember. I don't expect you to. And yet, you do. You know who you are. Thank you.

Happy Birthday Kristopher. I'm so glad Mommy and Daddy were able to worship with you this morning. Give Jesus a big hug for me. I can't wait to meet you one day, sweet boy!