Monday, May 16, 2011


What an interesting word. Redemption. We have heard it all our lives, often in very different contexts. A couple of months ago, when I had my first miscarriage, a dear friend shared with me some things God had told her as she prayed for me. These thoughts have been very dear to my heart as I have pondered them since. One was her certainty that God would redeem every tear, every moment of grief, every cell of thie pregnancy. I have clung to that hope since.

It is not for me to determine what that redemption looks like. Or when it will happen. Like everything else in life, I have to trust God, to lean on Him, let Him be my refuge and strength.

But, I had a glimpse of that redemption on Friday, and it was good.

On that day, Jameson was sick. Nothing major a little tummy upset, but he wasn't feeling well and didn't want to nap. I finally put him on my lap. We glided in the rocking chair while I snuggled him close, stroked his hair, and sang him lullabyes. With my rambunctious 19 month old, this doesn't happen often. Normally he runs at full throttle until he crashes into a nap, then he runs some more. But Friday he just wanted to be held. He wanted to be cuddled.

Like a newborn baby.

I, of course, ate it up. I rocked and I sang, I prayed for him and for me, for our family and my lost babies, long after he fell asleep in my arms. And I thanked God. I didn't get to rock those two little babies to sleep the way I would have wanted to. God had other plans. But I am certain they are in heaven with Him. I am certain they are happy and healthy and whole. And, in his infinite wisdom, He gave me my baby to rock on Friday afternoon.

I have been pondering those moments ever since. I treasure them in my heart. Today I took Jameson to get a haircut. He hated it. He wailed and cried and tried so hard to get away. Nothing distracted him, nothing placated him. I held him in my arms and he wailed against me while the poor stylist tried to finish. When we left, she gave him a blue balloon. The boy is in love with that balloon. We came home and he carried it all over the house, batted it around, showed it to the dog. He is in heaven over this new toy. And the similarities struck me. While I have been crying and grieving, God has been holding me close. He has never left my side, nor will He. And the heaven I look forward to is going to be so much better even than the blue balloon that put a smile on my child's face. My Saviour is there, my hope is there, and my babies are there together waiting for me.

So I wait...and I hope...and I anticipate redemption.

1 comment:

  1. In case you didn't know this...
    You are amazing!
    Thanks for teaching me so much today!! I have lots to put into action after our time together.

    Your heart is healing.. I see it! It may not feel complete, but will it ever? Without our scars we forget. And the question really is, do we want that? To forget, that is? Because by forgetting, it is as if it never happened. And it is part of who you are now. Part of who you'll become. "For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper you- not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope & a future!" Jeremiah 29:11

    Soooo... it is one foot in front of the other. One tear after another... the washing... its what heals us. But we don't forget. And we don't go back. Redemption is in the washing.