Sunday, October 28, 2012

lord, let that be true...

Lately, it feels as if loss has become a {not-so-welcome} guest in our lives.  As if losing a child through miscarriage is not enough, loss has decided to unpack it's bags and stay a while.  Allow me to explain. 

We officially found out that we miscarried our baby a few Monday's ago.  The next couple of days were really hard for us, and by Friday, we were exhausted and in need of some major r&r.  We spent the evening catching up on our favorite TV shows and enjoying a homemade pizza brought over to us by a neighbor.  But then, smack-dab in the middle of our quiet, restful evening, we heard a loud bang, and then a loud screech, and then another loud bang.  What was happening?

I ran to the front door and did only what {somehow} made sense to do at the time: open it.  It was hard to hear anything over the loud screeching and our now piercing-loud alarm screaming for someone to just enter the stupid code so it could take a breather, but I'm pretty sure my husband said {or yelled, for my own good}  some very wise words like what are you thinking?!? and close the door before we die.  Before I could figure out what I was thinking {I clearly wasn't}, we both saw truck lights climbing up onto our sidewalk and headed right towards our next door neighbors' house.  Yes, truck lights.  Headed towards the house beside ours. My husband grabbed me out of harm's way and slammed the door shut and together, we listened for the rest of the sounds..... another couple of screeches, another couple of bangs, and then the quiet. 

Our inner-city neighborhood usually doesn't get quiet, but after something like what happened with the truck, sometimes all you can do is stare in shock.  When we opened our front door again, we saw most of the block congregated at the other end of our street, staring at a cluster of smashed vehicles in the side of a house.  Our cars, to be exact.  {Here's a visual of my car after the crash.}


Loss, you see, is a difficult thing.  It rarely comes with a 'heads-up' tattooed in the sky so you can prepare for it, or a manual that you can read to know how to live beyond it.  Usually, loss just happens, like a thief in the night.  Or in our case, like a driver who decided to get behind the wheel after too many whiskey sours, or hits, or whatever panic led him to total both of our vehicles in a matter of seconds.   

Wasn't losing our baby difficult enough?  Now, both of our vehicles?  How much more loss could we possibly endure?

My husband turned to me with pain and confusion in his eyes: this has to be spiritual. 

A few neighbors explained what they saw from their 2nd story row-home windows: we heard a bang, he drove the wrong way down our one-way street, he hit a car, backed up onto the curb, smashed into your husband's car, panicked, smashed into your car, it spun, he pushed it into the side of that house, then he jumped out and ran that-a-way, something like that. 

My phone vibrated with a message from a neighbor {now friend}: I know everything seems as if its all coming to yall at once n its hard to handle but I believe there are brighter days to come n soon this will be all past yall.

I prayed, Lord let that be true.  We can't handle anything else.  We're not that strong.  

The truth is, we're not strong at all.  And as we have learned, we are not beyond devastating loss, and storms, and trials.  None of us are.  All we know to do right now is cling to each other and what we know to be true {even when we don't feel it}:

God is faithful.
He has not abandoned us.
We are not alone in our grief.
There is a purpose for these trials beyond what we can see.
We are being made new.
Our feelings and emotions cannot change these truths.
We are going to be okay. 

Lord, let that be true. 


  1. I believe there are seasons of trials that await those who have set their hearts on serving our Lord. Right before Jesus himself was to begin his public ministry he was led BY THE SPIRIT in to the wilderness and there was subjected to extreme trial. If Jesus himself had to go through this season is it any wonder we too go through these kinds of testings as well?

    I am sorry for your trials. They are painful. I wish I could say things will get better, but when we make the choice to serve Him, we end our life and take on his sufferings. The good thing I can share is that, like Jesus, after a season of trials, the enemy leaves us alone and angels come to minister to us. There will be plenty of more bouts, but it is not continuous, only seasonal in our experience.

    I attempted to write about this in a blog post I entitled What curious alchemy is this?"

    1. Guy, thank you for your response. I just read that post and forwarded it along to Chris to read. Your list is long..... And while we 'know' those truths in our minds, it never seems quite as easy to manage in the moment. We are here in Baltimore city, and I know this is not the end of our struggles. It is encouraging to be reminded that we're not alone in this battle. Thank you again, as always, for sharing and encouraging Chris & I by your lives and words.

  2. i believe that it's true. praying for you guys!