I’ve been uncertain about publicly airing my sorrow, our sorrow. But as the sorrow expands, it seems dishonest not to incorporate it into this journal of our time in Kenya. Also trying to hide this heartache as I try to cope with the demands of mothering, mission work, and treating numerous complex patients is exhausting. I also hesitate because I’ll be publicly admitting we want another child. And that may mean people wondering, asking and talking with us about why this hasn’t happened.
The truth is there is no good explanation for why I’ve lost 3 pregnancies in the past year. No satisfying reason that I can’t seem to get a pregnancy past 8 weeks. No comforting explanation for having D&Cs three times in the hospital here and certainly no understanding as to why this has happened. More over, I’m not sure knowing all the ins and outs about pregnancy, conception and fertility helps. And it definitely doesn’t help to be surrounded by pregnant women, some that don’t want to be pregnant, some that shouldn’t be pregnant, some that have tried to terminate their pregnancies and some that are also having a similar trouble.
The last loss was Feb 3rd, and in an effort to try to find some peace began reading a book entitled, “Praying our Goodbyes.” In it there was a poem by Robert Frost:
The rain said to the wind
‘you push and I ‘ll pelt.’
They so smelt the garden bed
the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.
Suffering is part of life, most of us have at times felt so burdened or mulled by what’s occurred in our lives that we literally feel physically, emotionally or/and spiritually crushed. What has crushed you? I couldn’t even begin to list all the reasons for discouragement in life. How do you picture being crushed by the storms of life? Tears, laying in bed, unable to do everyday tasks, loneliness, depression, exhaustion? In the poem the flowers “knelt”.
Being knelt reminds me of prayer and while Robert Frost doesn’t describe how to overcome the torrents, I think the flowers have assumed the correct position. As one songwriter says, “I get on my knees, before the Lord that changes me. I don’t know how but there is power when we’re on our knees.” We trust with the psalmist in Psalm 145:14, “The Lord lifts the fallen and those bent beneath their loads.”
The weekend before the last I attended a conference themed “Woven together in prayer.” Our speaker Jill Davis, a long-time AIM missionary reminded us that weaving involves cutting threads, adding new colors and that one side often looks tattered and unplanned. But on the other side, is a beautiful work. God alone has the perspective to know when colors need changing, threads need cutting and a new pattern must be started. So in dealing with pain, kneeling also acknowledges the humility we must have before a sovereign God.
Proverbs 3 v 5-6. “Lean on, trust in and be confident in the Lord with all your heart and mind and not rely on your own insight or understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct and make straight and plain your paths.” My insight and understanding into why this has happened and why this has happened here ad-mist so much other suffering, will always be limited. And I will not find peace continuing to ask, “Why? Why me?” Instead, I will try to ask and pray, “What is next Lord? Be near me. Lord, will you enable me to keep working here? Lord, please strengthen me for my children and husband. Comfort me.”