2 Corinthians 1:1-7 (The God of All Comfort, Part 1)

Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother,

To the church of God in Corinth, together with all his holy people throughout Achaia:

² Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

³ Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, ⁴ who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. ⁵ For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. ⁶ If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. ⁷ And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.

Greetings, my long lost friends!
So, I decided to take the summer off from blogging.  Normally, one would think summer would be the best time to blog, but I do much better when I have routine; and quite frankly, I just needed to rest.  Then, little did I know, that due to a few things that happened over the summer, a break from blogging was probably part of God's plan anyway.

And so, here is one main thing I have learned this summer: God comforts us.

When I decided to jump back into the blog this weekend, and saw that I had ended on 1 Corinthians pre-summer, I figured that 2 Corinthians was probably a great place to continue.  Oh my surprise when I saw what the first few verses had to say to me this morning...another reminder that God Himself comforts us. (Read the above verses and just soak them up. We'll dig into them tomorrow, but I wanted to share a story of God's comfort with you.)

It was early July when I found out I was pregnant.  I was shocked, over-joyed, thankful...everything!  I had wondered, and then the test confirmed...I am a mama, which, of course, got me thinking about my mama.  I wondered what she felt when she found out she was pregnant.  I was in a Target bathroom stall, and I hoped she was some place much more glamorous when she found out.  As one could expect, I immediately began cherishing the life that grew within me and started planning how I would tell Josh when he returned from a business trip a few days later.

And so over the weeks, the baby continued to grow, and Josh and I continued to get more and more excited.  It's incredible how quickly you get attached to this new person you don't even know.

Then, Friday night, July 27th, my mom's birthday,  the cramps and bleeding began.  My heart just knew this wasn't good news.  I sobbed as I began to say goodbye to this little life.  My mom had also lost her first and third babies, and I so desperately wished she were here to comfort me and tell me what to do.  We headed to the hospital.

We spent the evening in the ER.  Four of our friends met us there, held my hand, and prayed with us for hours as we waited.  Finally, the ultrasound tech arrived, and Josh and I saw the little heartbeat for the first time.  Baby wasn't gone yet!  So we went home and waited, though they warned us, it wasn't looking good.  But that was fine with me, I knew my God was bigger than any ultrasound image.  He could heal our baby -- He was the only one that could.  

For two weeks, we continued to wait.  Every cramp, every potty break, sent my mind running with thoughts about the future of our little family.  

Two weeks later, I had a follow up appointment which ultimately revealed there was no longer a heartbeat.  

We were crushed, and I wondered why God did not spare the life of my little one.  Then, the dreams of our future with this baby began to unravel.  The death of dreams can cause grief just as much as the death of people.  There was a lot of grief.

A D&C was required,  and again, friends and family came with us to the hospital, sat in waiting rooms with us, prayed with us, brought us food, called to check up on us, sent flowers and other gifts, and came by our home individually for 10 minutes unannounced just to give us a hug and cry with us for a few, short moments.  They were incredible.  They were God's love to us in those moments, and we were so incredibly thankful.  What would we have done without our community? 

And so we continue to grief the loss of "Blueberry" as we call him/her.  We still talk about that sweet baby and all that we experienced in those weeks, and we also are beginning to process this whole season.  I'm sure we will discover more revelations as we move forward, but I have been greatly struck by one thing:  All along, people sent us cards, texts, voice mails -- all that said they were "praying we'd feel God's love, peace, and comfort during this tragic time."  And here's the kicker...we did.  We absolutely do feel His love, comfort, and peace, in a way that is beyond human understanding or expectation.  What stuck out to me in all of this was how often we pray that prayer, but we don't really BELIEVE that He will answer it in a way that we will really feel His love, peace, and comfort.  How often do I pray prayers that I don't really expect God to answer?  But He does...and then we're surprised.  Why?

What also has been very apparent as I reflect on this summer is that in each trial of my life, I have wanted God to mold me more into who He wants me to be -- a person with more trust, a trust that comes quicker than the last time; a person with less guiding emotion and more guiding faith.  And here's another thing that shocked me: I am.  

I didn't know this until now, but this time, in the midst of my grief, I ran to God faster than I did when I lost my mom.  This time, I prayed more honestly.  This time, I recognized God's presence and His touch like a comforting, well-worn sweater that I was aware I had worn before.  I was able to look to Him, not perfectly nor in every moment by any means, but each day, I find myself choosing to turn back to Him and trusting Him to lead me in the dark.

...And so here is my new prayer.  I don't want to pray and ask God WHY anymore.  I don't want to say, "Why did you let my mom get cancer?  Why did you let her die?  Why did you let my baby die? Why are you making me go through this?"  Instead, I so desperately want my prayer to be WHAT.  "What are you trying to teach me in this, Lord?  What are you going to do in and through me because of this circumstance?  What can I do now for others because of this experience that I couldn't have done before?"  These are the questions of faith.  These are the questions that help me to focus not on the darkness in which I may currently find myself, but rather on the only One who knows the path in the midst of my darkness that leads to an unimaginable light.  He is the Light in all of my darkness.

He has comforted us.  Just like He said He would.  I continue to feel His arms wrapping us up, despite the tears that seemed to flow constantly this weekend.  He holds us, and He cries with us.  He comforts us, deep in our hearts.

In the meantime, I'm trusting Jesus and Mom to love on that baby until we get to meet him or her someday.  I had always felt so sad to think that Mom wouldn't know her first grandchild...and now she knows him or her even before we do.  I think they are probably all having a great time together, and that image also brings me comfort.

I love you, Jesus.  I love you, Mom.  I love you, Blue.