Found this written on a scrap piece of paper in Bernice’s things:
“Mercy withholds what we deserve. Grace gives us what we don’t deserve.”
I needed this little pick me up. Funny how God can use the little things to encourage us. I’m sure Bernice never could have imagined a quick note she wrote years ago, would be encouraging to me during one of the hardest seasons of my life.
Life may be pouring hard on David and I, but we can trust that God is continuously merciful. And He is incredibly gracious. And sometimes that’s all I can cling to, God is good.
I was so sure God was going to spare Brielle. Miracle after miracle happened during my pregnancy. I experienced things and felt things that I had only heard about, and that I had previously dismissed as fanaticism. But then I lived a miracle. I wrestled with my doubt and skepticism. I knew what should be and what should happen. And at times I felt foolish for even trying. I felt foolish for sharing my faith, because what if He doesn’t heal her? What if she doesn’t survive? Our walk with Brielle forced us to ask questions that no one really had answers for. David and I spent a great deal of time in prayer and scripture. I’d spend days fasting and meditating, solely devoted on Brielle and her survival. And I wrestled with myself. A voice in my head always told me to doubt, that I was being ridiculous. I wanted to believe that voice, because that little voice was easier to believe. We all doubt, I know that I am not alone in that. And during my pregnancy, I wondered if I would be punished for doubting, that maybe my faith wasn’t strong enough and that I would pay a price for that. I knew better. Throughout my life I have experienced God’s hand in my life, time and time again. He has loved me and carried me through multiple tragedies in my life. And I didn’t deserve all that He did for me. He didn’t penalize me for my infantile faith then, so why would He now? And yet, I doubted. What David and I asked for, it was everything. To us, Brielle’s life was the biggest request we would ever ask for. And God said, “No.” I talk more about some of the things He said yes to here, but the no He did give stung. It hurt, it hurt both David and I. And our faith was shaken. It sunk in more slowly for me, it took time for Brielle’s absence to really become something I could accept. Of course, I knew she was gone. I was keenly aware of that, but a part of me kept waiting to wake up. We’d be together again soon, right? And then the reality of how long it would be, until I’d hold her again, began to sink in. It’s still sinking in. That pain is unimaginable. I knew God had a good reason for saying no, so I didn’t struggle with the why. Instead, I struggled with the pain of His answer. And I began to question myself, I began to question everything. “Did I really experience everything I experienced?” “Is He really listening to me?” “Why did my daughter have to die?” I was frustrated with him and I felt guilty. I questioned my love for Him. I questioned my faith. “Did he penalize me for doubting?” “Was my faith not strong enough?” I wanted answers. I wanted this all to be a very, very bad dream. My grief, physical pain, and spiritual pain left me exhausted. And the fervor which I used to pray and meditate with was gone. I struggled with day to day tasks. I wanted, and still do, to just slip away. To zone out and be alone. I didn’t have the strength for anything more and my prayers were half hearted cries for mercy. I had lost the spiritual connection I once had. I couldn’t seem to feel anything but my own numbing pain. I felt guilty, ashamed. I felt that it was wrong of me to have begged and begged for miracles and then to have grown silent when He didn’t answer the way I wanted. I felt childish. Most of all, I felt ashamed. I felt foolish. I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that I had put my faith on the line for Him, that I had publicly declared what we were praying for and that He had publicly declined my request. My pride was hurt and I am humbled. And He was silent. After Brielle died, I thought life couldn’t get much worse, it became far worse. Stressors in our lives became almost unbearable. We were abused. We lost family relationships. We lost friends. Our finances plummeted. I became a caregiver. A mass on my skull (that had shown up during pregnancy) became unbearably painful. David’s horrible job, somehow, became even more horrible. We cried out for God, we cried out for help. And He was silent. We knew God was listening. We knew our cries weren’t being ignored, but where was He? I felt even more foolish and ashamed. Had I done something wrong? Were we being punished? Or were we being prepared for something in our future? I sat on the floor in my bedroom and said, “This is what I want in my life God, now do what you want.” I finally had enough strength to talk, to speak to Him like an old friend. And I felt Him again. I felt the prompting to pray for specific things again. I felt the all consuming peace I feel when I speak to Him. I felt His love again. I felt warm and I felt hopeful. For the first time in months, I felt positive. I missed Him. I know that I am still struggling to get into my new normal. I also know that God did not punish me for having doubt. He has not abandoned me, He’s just been waiting. Like a good friend should, He’s just been waiting for me to be ready. I don’t know what is ahead for my family. I know I am going to have times in my future where things will be tough, where I doubt, where I struggle. I know that I am going to make mistakes and that I am far from perfect. But I do know that God will not abandon me. I do know that He loves me fully and completely. I know that to some God can seem like an abstract concept, an oppressive being. To me, He has always been my best friend. The shoulder I lean on and the one I confide in. He has held my hand through every storm and I have felt His presence through all the highs and lows of my life. And I am content and pleased to go where He leads. Whatever He asks, I will do. In the process, I may mess up, but I can trust that I can always come back and make it right. I am at peace. And it feels so good to feel His presence again.
Please keep David in your prayers today. He has an interview starting at 1:00 PM EST and we’re really excited about it. The place is great and is basically a nerd’s dream job. I’m more nervous than he is.
David has been so stressed lately and we’ve been praying hard for a new opportunity. I know that God will provide, I’m just hoping the provision is sooner, rather than later.
God is always looking out for us. This afternoon, I took Emmy and Rosie out back. Because of Emmy’s broken paw, David or I have been going out with them to keep an eye on her.
I was busy looking at the trees, when I heard Emmy digging and burrowing her face into a hole in the ground.
I kept yelling at her to stop, but she wouldn’t let up. So I walked over and she moved away. I decided, since, I was over there that I should take a look and see what was bothering her. I imagined it was most likely a lizard or chipmunk. Instead, staring back at me was a snake with a head the size of a large egg. It’s eye alone was the size of a dime.
I walked away and thought, maybe I’m just seeing things, I do have bad eyes. Maybe it’s some giant breed of chipmunk or something (I know, I’m ridiculous). I walked back over, no it’s shiny. Mammals aren’t shiny. I’d walk away, and walk back again. It never moved, never blinked.
“Maybe it’s dead,” I thought. I walked back again, nope, it moved deeper into the hole. I called the girls inside and called David. David, of course, wanted to call animal control, but I was thinking its probably nothing. Again, maybe I’m just seeing things.
David called an animal removal service. The guy came. He looked around, pulled out the leaves from the hole, poked into the tree base (where the hole was), and said, “It’s in the tree.”
I stepped back, “It’s in the tree? It’s nest is in the tree?”
“Oh yeah. Great place for her.”
Her? I immediately began to think about baby snakes all over my yard.
“So, it is a snake?”
He nodded, “Definitely.” He then began to ask me questions about what it looked like. I’d only seen the side of it’s head, so my description wasn’t great.
“Did it have a cat eye?”
“Yes,” there was no hesitation there. That was my first clue that it was a snake to begin with.
“Okay, you have a copperhead.” I took another step back from the tree.
“Great, are there more in the yard then?”
“Most likely.”
He laid out the options for me, and I chose the get the snakes out of my yard option.
I’d planned on finishing the raised garden beds today. I’d planned on raking the leaves today. Not anymore. It’s crazy how life works and how God looks after us.
If Emmy hadn’t broken her paw, I wouldn’t have been out there to see the snake. If Emmy hadn’t seen the snake and tried to kill it, I would have continued to work in my yard with a bunch of venomous snakes.
And the most amazing part of all this is that the snake never tried to hurt Emmy. It never bit her or came after me. And Emmy was openly antagonizing the copperhead. God is good. He is really, really good. Awesome, He’s totally awesome.
Daddy and Brielle Bear. He loves his little girl.Selfie with mommy.
We brought Brielle in her urn bear to church on Sunday. I dressed her in one of the church outfits we’d bought her in October. I was so nervous, I thought it would be weird or we’d look ridiculous. But it felt right. David carried her in and we sat with some friends. We took turns holding her through the service. David wanted to hold her the most, he’d take her from me and would say, “It’s my turn to hold my little girl.” It was cute, he needed her there just as much as I did.
Our friends were very supportive and thought it was good. They’ve been very understanding and encouraging. And it was just nice. My arms didn’t ache as bad. I didn’t feel like I was falling apart. It felt right. It felt right, to bring her to the place she loved most.
David and I don’t have a grave site to visit or decorate. We have Brielle bear. And even though Brielle isn’t a part of this world, she still exists, and David and I are still parents. And we still need to parent her. We need to love her and celebrate her. And we’re still connected with her, so it’s not as simple as just saying, “She’s with God now” and moving on.
I don’t know what she sees. I don’t know what she knows. No one does. She loved God and church. She’d jump for joy when the pastor said, “Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life.” She danced when we sang praise songs. So David and I feel it’s right to still bring her to church, she’d want that.
We still need to honor Brielle. We still need to celebrate her and acknowledge her. And we’ll figure out our way of doing that. I’m not going to apologize for remembering Brielle and I’m going to do what’s best for my family. And right now, bringing Brielle to church is what is best for us. If she can see us, I think it made her happy.