mardi 22 octobre 2013

There were photographs I wanted to take



Today is the 22nd, and 10 months ago I gave birth to Joakim.
Because I spend time today watching my other children and realising how much they'd grown in 10 months, I had such an ache for my baby, realising there is no way I can even picture him at 10 months.

There is a song I love that talks of the pain it is to be robed of our child ... no photographs of their first smile, their first steps, no firsts of anything.
The song also talks about the blessing it is to have had our child, even for such a short time.
It's true, we cannot regret having had Joakim, I cannot regret having carried him, even if losing him has caused us the greatest pain we might ever know.

Most of all, the song talks about the love that carries us, God's love that whispers to us
"I will carry you"

Nous sommes le 22, et il y a 10 mois, j'ai accouché de Joakim.
En observant mes enfants aujourd'hui, j'ai réalisé à quel point ils avaient grandis ces dix derniers mois... j'ai eu une telle envie d'avoir mon bébé avec moi, et je ne peux même pas me le représenter à l'âge de dix mois.
Un chant que j'aime écouter parle de la souffrance que nous vivons lorsque nous sommes séparés d'un de nos enfants : je n'ai pas de photo de son premier sourire, de ses premiers pas, aucune "première" de quoi que ce soit dans sa vie.
Ce chant parle aussi de la bénédiction d'avoir pû le porter, et l'avoir eu, même pour si peu de temps.
C'est vrai, on ne regrette pas d'avoir eu Joakim, je ne regrette pas de l'avoir porté, même si son départ nous inflige la souffrance la plus terrible que nous ayons jamais connu.

Par dessus-tout, ce chant parle de l'amour qui nous porte, l'amour de Dieu qui nous souffle à l'oreille "I will carrry you.. Je te porterais toujours"








samedi 22 juin 2013

Sitting

"I am sorry"
One doctor, three words, and I am sent crashing to the ground.
In  matter of seconds, everything is turned upside down. Surely the sun will not set tonight. People will stop in their tracks and bow their heads. The earth will be silent, for my baby is gone.

Wait ! How can this be possible ? I am still on the ground, in the dust, and the sun has set ! The earth has not changed its pace, people keep walking and dreaming and laughing !
I shake my head, bewildered. I try standing up. It is too soon, my legs cannot carry me. So I sit in the dust.

Some people sit beside me, do bow their heads. They take my hand and whisper the truth, soflty remind me
"He will raise you up"

Other walk past me, take a few steps away to avoid this hurting stranger. Others do not see me. They don't know ! I am not dressed in black, I am alive...
Swollen eyes, empty heart, covered in dust, I am the invisible mourning mother.

I lean on my hands, try a different position. I am on my knees.
People stand up, start walking again, at a different pace. They are waiting for me, I will catch up some day.
I try standing again, and take a few steps. I fall again and wonder...
if this is my life, now.

There is One who is still kneeling, beside me.
I have spoken to Him, so many times.
But He is silently waiting for me to ask

As I try standing, this time I say
"Lift me"

I am standing, shaking and covered in dust.
No longer trying to walk
Without Him ....
 
I am the mourning mother
Suffering and weeping
But standing and shaking the dust off my clothes

"I was overcome by trouble and sorrow
Then I called on the name of the Lord
Save me !"

 "He raises the poor from the dust..."
Psalm 113 







mardi 30 avril 2013

It's a beautiful life but someone is missing. Elizabeth mccracken

This could have been written to me.
John Piper wrote to a grieving mum, and once again, I was so encouraged to read words that express my feelings. Does it help understand what it's like to grieve a child you never knew ?
I wonder. 

http://www.desiringgod.org/blog/posts/letter-to-a-parent-grieving-the-loss-of-a-child


mardi 26 mars 2013

I am not over it

"Catastrophic loss wreaks destruction like a massive flood. It leaves the landscape of one's life forever changed." 
Jerry Sittser in A Grace Disguised


Three months ago, my husband and I were standing at the grave of our little boy. The pain was unrelenting, raw. The intensity of our loss only beginning to sink in.

At that time, I was convinced my life was changed forever. And I was right !
I just had to discover what was changed. At first I thought it was my ability to be happy again. At the hospital, I held my child and thought my joy was gone, till the day I would see him again.
But by the grace of God, my ability to be happy has not gone. Because of His presence in our lives, we are learning that grief is mysterious joy and sorrow mingled together.

So I am able to feel joy, to laugh, to enjoy life... so am I over it ?

I will never be over it. I have chosen to live my grief, fully, but to let joy seep in the darkness. I will not wait for darkness to lift before I let God give me his joy. I am not going to go through the pain and wait to come out the other side. I want grace to be present in the pain. And the pain is here... even if it is not as noticeable now. When I think of Joakim I feel like screaming in pain.

The loss of our boy is being absorbed in my life. And I want to let the sorrow enlarge me, not define me. Because I will never be over it, it will hopefully change me in the years to come. I know this is possible because of God's promises.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever.
Ephesians 3 v 20


mercredi 6 février 2013

Called by name

I have been figuring out lately what things help me grieve properly. One idea I had was to get a bracelet made, with Joakim's name engraved on it. It is very discreet, and flowery, and I like it.
Somehow, it pleases me to have something to wear that reminds me of him. The bracelet has been made, and as I have started wearing it, I wondered how long I would wear it. I wondered if in ten, twenty years, it would still be wearable. The bracelet is perishable, but not the memory of our son.
His name is so dear to me, that it makes me either smile or cry, or both, to look at it.

Our names are known to our Creator. What does He not know of us ? 
"When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." (Psalm 139)

Joakim's days were written, before he was born. And his name was engraved, in the book of life. His name is precious to many people, but it amazes me to think that it is precious to God, and that God knows him, knows us, by name.

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you I have summoned you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned. The flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am your the Lord, your God.."  
Isaiah 43


Ces derniers temps, j'ai réfléchi à ce qui pouvait m'aider à faire le deuil de Joakim. Entre autre, j'ai eu l'idée de faire faire un bracelet sur lequel est gravé son nom. Je le porte maintenant depuis deux semaines, et je l'aime beaucoup... discret, fleuri, comme  j'aime !
Je ne saurais pas l'expliquer, mais j'aime porter quelque chose sur lequel son prénom est inscrit, comme un écho de mes pensées. Je me suis demandé combien de temps je le porterais. Le bracelet sera-t-il encore en état d'être porté dans dix, vingt ans ? C'est un objet qui ne durera qu'un temps. Le souvenir de notre fils, lui, restera.
Ce prénom m'est si précieux que le simple fait de voir ce bracelet me faire pleurer, ou sourire, ou les deux...

Notre créateur nous connaît par notre prénom. Il n'y a rien de caché, d'inconnu pour Lui ! 
" Je n'étais encore qu'une masse informe, mais tes yeux me voyaient, et sur ton livre étaient inscrits tous les jours qui m'étaient destinés avant qu'un seul d'entre eux n'existe" (Psaume 139)

Les jours de Joakim étaient inscrits, avant sa naissance. Et son nom était gravé dans le livre de vie. Son nom est précieux pour de nombreuses personnes, mais je suis émerveillée de penser qu'il est précieux pour Dieu, et que Dieu le connaît, nous connaît, par notre nom.

"N'aie pas peur, car je t'ai racheté. Je t'ai appelé par ton nom, tu m'appartiens! Si tu traverses l'eau, je serai moi-même avec toi; si tu traverses les fleuves, ils ne te submergeront pas. Si tu marches dans le feu, tu ne te brûleras pas et la flamme ne te fera pas de mal. En effet, je suis l'Eternel ton Dieu..."
(Esaie 43)



mardi 22 janvier 2013

Learning

I'm learning that it's possible to drive and cry at the same time.
I'm learning that it's ok to laugh out loud. 
I'm learning that some days are worse than others.
I'm learning that I can tell people our child is in heaven without bursting into tears. 
I'm learning that  an email, or a piece of chocolate, or a hug, also help.
I'm learning that I need to forgive those who say hurtful things.
I'm learning that not doing it robs us of our peace.
I'm learning that when God's people pray, things happen in our hearts.
I'm learning that there's a huge amount of people suffering out there.
I'm learning that God uses our family, our friends, to bless us in many ways.
I'm learning that God's words are the most soothing, peace-giving, soul resting words there will ever be.

A month ago today, I gave birth to Joakim. I miss him so much. I am standing, because I'm learning what it's like to have God walking alongside us in our suffering.