What If God's Plan Is "Everyday"?

The theme for May at Mississippi Women Bloggers is "Women Who Inspire Us". My friend Megan ('Tis So Sweet) asked me to participate by submitting a guest blog. I'd had some thoughts in my head for a while and had not been able to get them to flow into my fingers yet. I believe God saved them for this topic. I hope you will read "The High Calling of an Everyday Life" over at Mississippi Women Bloggers.

I Remember

These past two weeks, four babies in my circles of friends and acquaintances have left this world for heaven. Two precious little ones after their birth and two other sweet babies while they were still growing in their mother's wombs. As I have heard of their situations, I have prayed for them throughout my days. Something or someone would turn my thoughts to them, I would send up a prayer for them and their families, then push them from my mind again and go about my day. It seems unkind to have not dwelt on them or their pain. But I couldn't. I didn't have time to think about this and get upset. I am very careful most all the time not think about babies dying. I am very careful not to touch those things in the closet. I am very careful not to pull out pictures. I am very careful not to look at that teddy bear.

 Because of these precious babies and their families coming into my life and thoughts in unusual numbers, I wasn't able to push those reflections away. I thought of them and how they would be feeling. How their coming days would be so hard. How that in the midst of this most difficult thing they would  have to chose to be faithful and tender and good or broken and hard and bitter.  How they would always carry those babies in their hearts and minds when others had long forgotten. Today, I lift them up and I remember.

I remember a fog. My body moved. I heard my voice. I ate. I slept. I cried. I prayed but none of it was clear. It was almost as I was watching myself do those things. A dream state. That's what it felt like. There would be no waking into the realization that everything was fine. Only harsh reality when I emerged from the fog.

I remember frustration. I don't make decisions, especially important ones, lightly. I want things to be right. I had to choose so many things so fast. Constant fear of living in regret over these decisions. These had to be right. I wasn't given the luxury or the agony of being able to plan for this event. I wanted people with me but then wanted to be alone at the same time. I wanted the chance to ask God to spare him. I wanted my boy.

I remember seeing things I never wanted to see. Knowing things I never wanted to know. Having to say things I never wanted to say. My breath being sucked from my body when I saw the tiny hole in the earth where my baby's body would lay.  Seeing my husband knees buckle under him as he leaned over our baby's casket for the last time. Having to tell our other children that their baby brother wouldn't come home with us after I delivered him. Having to answer their questions. Having to tell them that sometimes God doesn't raise people from the dead like they had heard from their Bible stories. 

I remember heaviness. My head, my heart, my arms, my feet, all so hard to hold up. The weight of grief so difficult to carry. Not wanting to wake, much less get out of bed and go throughout my day as if  everything was normal again when it wasn't.

I remember tears that wouldn't stop. Choking sobs. Suffocating sadness. Groans and gut wrenching mourning that involved my entire being.

I remember brokenness. Being so shattered that it felt like there was no hope of being put back together again. Would I ever be able to laugh? Would my smile ever stop being betrayed by the sadness in my eyes? My joy was in pieces. Part of my heart was torn from the whole and sent away from me to a place I couldn't be.  

I remember fear. Would someone ask me when I was due? Being post pregnancy with no baby, I looked pregnant. Would someone ask me how many children I have? I can't tell them I have 3 because I have 4. What will they say to me? I know they are trying to be kind but sometimes the words hurt. What if they don't say anything at all? When they didn't acknowledge my pain it felt almost as bad as when they did. What if I have to walk past the baby section when I have to shop?

I remember emptiness. Empty arms. Empty cradle. Empty picture frames. Clothes never worn. Bears never cuddled. Family pictures that weren't complete. Christmas cards without all the names.

But along with these above,

I remember clarity. The fog cleared and with the light of day, I knew what to do. God's word was beside us guiding us when we were uncertain or confused.

I remember peace. Though there are things I wish I had known or wish I had done, I never stewed over the decisions we made after we made them. I carried serenity when it was impossible within myself. It was a gift given me by the Father of all. The words of Psalm 23 calmed my soul and quieted my spirit.

I remember beauty. What a beautiful baby boy held forever in my heart! We always say it is so hard to see our children grow. He'll always our sweet small one who never grows up. I remember daffodils and tulips everywhere. The compassion and love I felt and experienced was lovely.

I remember being carried. Paul Lee read "Footprints in the Sand" at Jack's funeral. A poem I've known all my life that never held such meaning as it did in the coming days. When it as humanly and physically impossible, God carried us. My husband, my mom, my siblings, my close friends and family let me talk and talk and they listened and listened. They didn't try to fix me or change me. They talked sense to me when all I felt was nonsense. They helped carry my pain as if I gave them each a suitcase full of it. 

I remember comfort. Never before were the words of God more real. Never before had I felt His presence so strongly. He was almost palpable. I felt Him beside me all the time. We were in constant conversation. To know that my baby boy was in the best place he could be other than my arms brought such rest. My relationship with Eric was stronger than it had ever been. I wanted to be with him all the time. I needed to be near him. He let me follow him around the house. He held my hand all the time. I remember the ones who just hugged me and said they were praying for me. The ones who teared up too when I began to cry. I wasn't alone.

I remember love. I never felt more loved or cared for after Jack died. Our mailbox was full of cards everyday. Our house was filled with food and flowers. Gifts to remind us of God's love and their love. I felt the prayers said for us. Phone calls, visits, thoughts and prayers. They helped make everyday more bearable. "Being Held" just like Natalie Grant wrote. Our pain gave us the chance to be held.

I remember healing. The bad days got better. The black clouds receded and didn't come as often. I didn't cry everyday. My chest didn't hurt as bad as it once did. I was able to comfort others with what comforted me.

I remember fullness. My arms were filled with my family and friends. God allowed me to share with others how He had worked so miraculously in our lives. What joy to be able to share and comfort others because you have been there before. To have something in common with someone you've never met but be able to love on them from far away. And how wonderful when he gave us Dinah. What a sparkler! And how much more I am able to love the children I have because of the one who is away from me.

With the bad came the good. With the hard came the help. With the pain, came purpose. With the sadness came new joy.

The sadness and weeping may endure for the night (or what seems like a very long time) but joy comes in the morning (one day when you aren't expecting it). Psalm 30:5b

"Baby Jack Jack"

Jack Nathanael Lancaster

Born of Heaven February 19, 2008

(Portrait drawn by Cole Sanders)

Lifting My Hands

I Lift My Hands
Chris Tomlin

Be still, there is a healer
His love is deeper than the sea
His mercy, it is unfailing
His arms are a fortress for the weak


Let faith arise
Let faith arise


I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember
You are faithful, God, forever


Be still, there is a river
That flows from Calvary's tree
A fountain for the thirsty
Pure grace that washes over me


So let faith arise
Let faith arise
Open my eyes
Open my eyes


I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember
You are faithful, God
You are faithful, God, forever

 

When I heard these words for the first time as I listened to Chris Tomlin sing them on the radio, my mind immediately recalled a Sunday worship service a few years ago. I cried as I thought of it and how these words could have been written for me that day.

I can recall almost every detail because of what I experienced. It was the fall of 2008. The weather was unseasonably warm for October. I went to church numb that morning. I had readied myself and my family like a robot going through motions programmed by another. I was overwhelmingly sad. My body felt so heavy, I hardly wished to move it. It was a struggle to rise from bed each morning. It had been almost eight months since Jack died. This cloud of sadness had settled on me at six months. Though the difficult times had come and gone, they hadn't stayed this long and I felt I had been doing so well before it came. I couldn't shake it though. I prayed, meditated on God's word, and longed for the day I would be able to breathe easily again.

I walked into the service that morning with a heavy heart. We began to sing and as usual with the words that were sung, tears came as well. When I heard the notes played for the song, "How Great Is Our God", the tears became small sobs. I began to feel the Holy Spirit close about me as I was reminded of His faithfulness to me. Since I first heard the song, I had loved it. I sang it all the time. Whenever it came on the radio, I turned it up loud and belted it out as loud as my lungs would allow. Those words of praise were so special. In the delivery room, as I delivered our stillborn son, God put those words on my lips. In that room, where I was going through the hardest thing I had ever to do, I felt peace like never before. Instead of despair, God gave me a song. In those moments, I truly understood, "How Great Was Our God" and longed for all to "sing with me" and to know it too.

So again, almost eight months later, I whispered those words to God. And as I sat there, I knew it wasn't enough for Him. For the first time in my life, I rose and lifted my hands heavenward, as high as I could lift them. If Chris Tomlin had been inside my head and heart that day, his words could not have described what I felt more than the words that he wrote a year or two later.


"I lift my hands to believe again

You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember
You are faithful, God
You are faithful, God, forever"


I stood there uncaring of what others thought. I was just Anna, broken and nothingness, worshiping God Almighty, the only one who could not only restore me but make me better than I was before. I remembered His faithfulness to me and I lifted my hands to believe again. I sent up my love and received much more in return.

The days that followed were still difficult. But I just had to stop and remember His faithfulness to me.

I and my worship haven't been quite the same since that day.

So click here: I Lift My Hands to listen to Chris Tomlin sing one of my new favorite songs.


Below are some verses from the Bible about lifting hands; hands lifted in anguish, questions, readiness, praise, awe, thankfulness, faith and worship.




And Moses said unto him, As soon as I am gone out of the city, I will spread abroad my hands unto the LORD; [and] the thunder shall cease, neither shall there be any more hail; that thou mayest know how that the earth [is] the LORD'S. And Moses went out of the city from Pharaoh, and spread abroad his hands unto the LORD: and the thunders and hail ceased, and the rain was not poured upon the earth. (Exodus 9:29,33)


But Moses' hands [were] heavy; and they took a stone, and put [it] under him, and he sat thereon; and Aaron and Hur stayed up his hands, the one on the one side, and the other on the other side; and his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. (Exodus 17:12)


His own hands shall bring the offerings of the LORD made by fire, the fat with the breast, it shall he bring, that the breast may be waved [for] a wave offering before the LORD. (Leviticus 7:30)


And he shall take a censer full of burning coals of fire from off the altar before the LORD, and his hands full of sweet incense beaten small, and bring [it] within the vail: (Leviticus 16:12)


And Solomon stood before the altar of the LORD in the presence of all the congregation of Israel, and spread forth his hands toward heaven:… What prayer and supplication soever be [made] by any man, [or] by all thy people Israel, which shall know every man the plague of his own heart, and spread forth his hands toward this house:… And it was [so], that when Solomon had made an end of praying all this prayer and supplication unto the LORD, he arose from before the altar of the LORD, from kneeling on his knees with his hands spread up to heaven. (1 Kings 8:22,38,54)


And he stood before the altar of the LORD in the presence of all the congregation of Israel, and spread forth his hands… For Solomon had made a brasen scaffold, of five cubits long, and five cubits broad, and three cubits high, and had set it in the midst of the court: and upon it he stood, and kneeled down upon his knees before all the congregation of Israel, and spread forth his hands toward heaven… [Then] what prayer [or] what supplication soever shall be made of any man, or of all thy people Israel, when every one shall know his own sore and his own grief, and shall spread forth his hands in this house: (2 Chronicles 6:12,13,29)


And at the evening sacrifice I arose up from my heaviness; and having rent my garment and my mantle, I fell upon my knees, and spread out my hands unto the LORD my God. (Ezra 9:5)


And Ezra blessed the LORD, the great God. And all the people answered, Amen, Amen, with lifting up their hands: and they bowed their heads, and worshipped the LORD with [their] faces to the ground. (Nehemiah 8:6)


If thou prepare thine heart, and stretch out thine hands toward him. (Job 11:13)


Hear the voice of my supplications, when I cry unto thee, when I lift up my hands toward thy holy oracle. (Psalm 28:2)


Thus will I bless thee while I live: I will lift up my hands in thy name. (Psalm 64:3)


Princes shall come out of Egypt; Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her hands unto God. (Psalm 68:31)


Mine eye mourneth by reason of affliction: LORD, I have called daily upon thee, I have stretched out my hands unto thee. (Psalm 88:9)


My hands also will I lift up unto thy commandments, which I have loved; and I will meditate in thy statutes. (Psalm 119:48)


Lift up your hands [in] the sanctuary, and bless the LORD. (Psalm 134:2)


Let my prayer be set forth before thee [as] incense; [and] the lifting up of my hands [as] the evening sacrifice. (Psalm 141:2)


I stretch forth my hands unto thee: my soul [thirsteth] after thee, as a thirsty land. Selah. (Psalm 143:6)

For I have heard a voice as of a woman in travail, [and] the anguish as of her that bringeth forth her first child, the voice of the daughter of Zion, [that] bewaileth herself, [that] spreadeth her hands, [saying], Woe [is] me now! for my soul is wearied because of murderers. (Jeremiah 4:31)




Arise, cry out in the night: in the beginning of the watches pour out thine heart like water before the face of the Lord: lift up thy hands toward him for the life of thy young children, that faint for hunger in the top of every street. (Lamentations 2:19)


Let us lift up our heart with [our] hands unto God in the heavens. (Lamentations 3:41)


The mountains saw thee, [and] they trembled: the overflowing of the water passed by: the deep uttered his voice, [and] lifted up his hands on high. (Habakkuk 3:10)


And he led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them. (Luke 24:50)


I will therefore that men pray every where, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and doubting. (1 Timothy 2:8)


Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees. (Hebrews 12:12)