Seeing Through the Tears

Two days ago, a close friend shared her exciting news of being 12 weeks pregnant with their first child! Our circle of friends was whooping, squealing, and celebrating this precious life.

This morning, she found out that she has miscarried. When I read her message, my heart sank to my stomach. Even though I've lost 5 babies through 4 miscarriages, I felt like my world was rocked at the discovery of my sweet friend's loss. How could this happen? Why is life so unfair? I feel shocked and burdened with sadness for her and her husband.

I didn't deal well with my grief in all of the losses (see "A Beautiful Mess" post on sidebar). But a few verses that comforted me daily after losing the twins last year were Lamentations 3:22-23. The entire chapter is refreshing, but these two verses were like drops of water to a dehydrated soul.

"The unfailing love of the Lord never ends! By his mercies we have been kept from complete destruction. Great is His faithfulness. His mercies begin afresh each day."

Each morning when I opened my eyes, I would feel crushed as the weight of the loss rushed into my consciousness. But these verses of Scripture reminded me to search for His mercies. Every day, there was something to carry me through until I fell asleep that evening. It might be an encouraging note from a friend. Or a funny commercial that made me laugh. Or the sight of a beautiful hummingbird hovering outside my kitchen window. Each day, God faithfully delivered a sign of beauty, hope, love, or joy. Even through the sorrow and tears, I could see His hand pulling me forward one step at a time. We didn't need to go faster. Just morning by morning. And that's what kept me moving forward.

I pray that my dear friend will be comforted by His daily mercies as well. The pain may still linger for awhile, and there may be tears on her pillow at night, but joy comes in the morning. Great is His faithfulness.

A Beautiful Mess

Sitting at the kitchen table, I hid behind the Rice Chex box so my 13-month-old son would not see the tears streaming down my face. Occasionally, I would poke my head around, singing "Peek a boo!" while he munched away at his cereal on his high chair tray. But the tears welled up too quickly, the sobs became more audible, and the grief within me became so physically crushing that I had to run to the hall bathroom to avoid startling my child.

That was March 18th, 2009. A year ago today (the 16th), I miscarried our twins at 8 weeks. On one hand, I wasn't shell-shocked because it was our fourth miscarriage. I knew all along it was a possibility. On the other hand, I was absolutely devastated. I had wanted twins since I was a child, and being that my husband is a twin, we were both pretty excited. What made our loss so difficult was coming to grips with the unlikelihood of us ever conceiving twins again.

Over the next few months, I prayed. I poured over Scripture. I read and reread emails, cards, and notes from family, friends, and even strangers. But I often pushed back the tears. In fact, after March 18th, I didn't cry much at all. And I thought I was coping. I thought I was allowing God to heal my heart and my womb. I acted strong. Because after all, that's what Christian women do. We have hope. We have redemption. We have a Counselor. We have a Healer. But do you know what I didn't have? Conviction.

In July, I decided I wanted to talk with a Christian counselor. Even though I wasn't preoccupied with our loss, I somehow felt like I hadn't grieved well. The wound still felt fresh. Julie carefully and lovingly revealed my altered view of God. I had good theology, but I didn't believe it. Somewhere along the line, viewing the difficulties I had experienced through my self-created filter, I had changed my beliefs about God.

If God really loved me, He would have performed a miracle and saved the babies. If God was really good, He wouldn't allow me to be faced daily with my shattered dream when a close friend conceived twins. If God was really sovereign, ...

At first, I felt defensive. Of course I believe God is good! I certainly believe God loves me. I never doubt his plans for me. But as I prayed and allowed the Holy Spirit to stir in me, I realized Julie was correct. I asked for eyes to see beyond the grid I had placed before me. And the Lord and I began a months-long journey of rediscovering His unfailing love. For me.

Looking back, the false beliefs just crept in, and I didn't even realize it. But I'll tell you how.

I didn't want to appear as a mess before the the Lord. Much less other people. Especially Christians. I didn't want to acknowledge that I had questions. I believed in His faithfulness and unfailing love because I knew with my head that His word is true. But the belief never traveled to my heart. I didn't engage God. I never asked Him to show me and teach me and work out His truths in my innermost being. Having been a Christian for over 13 years, I thought it would appear weak to wrestle with God. And so I pushed forward with His words on my lips but a soul hurting and unsatisfied.

A local teacher and national author, Fran Sciacca, calls this paradox "godless godliness" and defines it as the appearance of godliness without its power. According to Fran, godless godliness most often rears its ugly head when we're faced with obstacles in life. My experience - case in point.

Here's a more day-to-day illustration of how godless godliness can play out. One of the most agreed upon challenges among stay-at-home moms is achieving a balance of spending time with the kids while also keeping a clean house. On the days when my house is swiffed, organized, and crumb-free, I feel good about myself. But my son receives less of my attention and time. My house looks good. But my relationship with my child has not grown.

We can function similarly in our relationship with the Lord. We can read our Bibles, attend church or bible study, and quote Scripture in conversation, emails, or blog posts. From an outside view, our walks with Christ might look pretty darn good. Like we have it all together. But if we spend too much time on the framework of faith without putting our heart into it, we can go through a whole day "looking good" but completely missing intimacy with God. We pretend all is well but miss out on walking in His power, strength, and joy.

And can I be frank? I believe our Christian culture has put this pressure on us. We only share our struggles when they're in the past. When we can say we've already dealt with them and we're back in a good place. We shrink back in horror when someone confesses a current doubt or shares an ongoing weakness. As I've written before, authentic Christianity isn't covering up our wounds with proverbial band-aids but rather allowing a hurting and unbelieving world to witness the rawness of our pain and the restorative power of a compassionate, loving God. Yes, it's uncomfortable to see someone struggle. But instead of simply feeding them Scripture (which is still helpful and appropriate at the right time), we should encourage one another to take our issues to the Lord and dialogue with Him. Engage Him. There is freedom to wrestle. There is hope that grows from presenting your concerns to God. There is healing in laying your heart bare before the Lord. He sees it all anyway. There is beauty in the mess of digging deep to know the God you love. You don't have to have all the answers. And it's okay to admit you're struggling. Faith is messy.

Jacob wrestled. David questioned. Martha had her priorities wrong. The disciples didn't get it. Even Jesus asked for a reprieve.

Our relationships with the Lord aren't always spotless and perfect. The danger in simply pressing on during trials without engaging the Lord is that unbelief sneaks in. Lies can take root. And the changes are so subtle that you may not even be conscious of them. Take comfort in the fact that you can be totally known, understood, and loved by the Creator of the universe. And He delights so much more in your efforts to hash it out with Him and reach a new level of intimacy than He does in your ability to maintain godly living without His presence and power in your life.

I have been burdened for months to share what I have learned because I don't want others to make the same mistake. Don't convince yourself that going through the motions is the same as being a strong Christian woman. Tackle those fears and doubts head on and allow convictions to take hold. If you feel like your faith is messy, remember that in God's eyes, it's a beautiful mess.

As I stared at our ultrasound pictures earlier, I smiled. Only because I finally fought with the Lord and worked out my unbeliefs do I once again BELIEVE that He is faithful and loving. He has carried me and Scott through the pain and loss, and my renewed convictions have cultivated gratitude and joy in my heart. I finally sorrowed well, with the grace and guidance of an amazing Father. And because of that, I can look back on my pain and feel blessed for it. Sweet friends, embrace faith's messes and know they're worth it.

Thankful for Unanswered Prayers

Have you ever prayed for something so desperately that your heart physically ached? This was how I felt when Scott and I (and many others, THANK YOU!) were praying that our twin babies would survive and escape miscarriage.

I know there really are no "unanswered" prayers. God just doesn't always give us the answer we want. But in our eyes, we see these "No's" as broken dreams and, in our limited human understanding, the wrong answers.

Don't you love it when God proves us wrong? When, in time, He reveals one more step in His glorious plan for your life? When you catch a glimpse of the pain, suffering, and grief He saved you from? You are reminded that God is good and sovereign and holy and omniscient and trustworthy.

We finally received the results of the chromosome testing that was performed after our loss. Unfortunately, the chromosomes were not distinguishable for the smaller baby, so we do not know anything about our Lil' Bit. I must admit that I am very sad and disappointed about that. The tests from Peanut reveal that he was a boy. A boy with Trisomy 11. That means that he had one too many chromosomes, with the extra one being on chromosome 11.

You've read about Trisomy 18 on Boothe's blog (Keeping Awake), and Trisomy 21 is Downs Syndrome. Trisomy 11 almost always results in miscarriage. And any trisomy baby that goes full term is typically born with many physical defects that result in suffering for the baby, death shortly after birth, and agony for the parents as they watch their precious child struggle and eventually slip from this world into heaven. I cried numerous times as Boothe and Conor Farley went through this with Copeland, and I can't imagine ever facing that same situation. I am not saying that I am glad I lost our little boy, but this outcome seems like a gift and a blessing compared to the alternative. While Copeland was a blessing and gift to her parents and to many people, I am not sure I could endure the pain and grief if faced with the same.

I am also encouraged that there was nothing we could have done to help the babies survive. More shots would have accomplished nothing. I am encouraged that, at least with this miscarriage, it wasn't my body fighting the fetuses. Our little ones were destined to reach Jesus' arms before their mom's and dad's. And from our new, informed perspective, I am so very grateful for that.

We don't always get to see why some of our hopes and dreams don't work out. But we know that God hears our voice. And He loves us. And in the words of Garth Brooks, "some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers."

Love Letters from a Savior

After hearing our news of losing the twins, one of my close friends emailed to share what she had recently learned in her bible study. A girl had shared that when she cried out to God for hope, guidance or in pain- she asked him to send her love letters. We both loved this analogy! In my friend's words, "His love letters to us are all around us every day, things that we can see and touch- that God has given us as gifts."

Immediately, I saw Scott and Carter as love letters to me. They bring me joy and love beyond what I can even articulate. Despite the pain of losing five babies, Scott and I can look at Carter and know that we will still feel incredibly blessed even if he is the only child we ever have on earth.

As I surveyed my life over the last couple of weeks, I have seen God writing more love letters to me in various fashions and through numerous channels.

Some of these love letters have come through books. Jesus Calling, a devotional by Sarah Young, consists of daily "letters" written to the reader from the viewpoint of Jesus. Some of these letters have resonated so deeply with my pain and struggles that I felt like Jesus was truly talking directly to me, validating my hurts and reminding me of His love and faithfulness.

God has used people to send his love letters. Notes, emails, meals, flowers, prayers, and phone conversations from family and friends have brought incredible comfort and sweetness! Scott and I have felt so loved, and the outpouring of support and prayers has been a beautiful image of God's family and His abounding love.

While I watched for God to perform something big during my pregnancy, He did something just as great in my loss. A woman who had prayed with me a few weeks ago sent an email with what she felt were God's words to me. It is too personal to share here, but it was written as a letter to me, reminding me of His love and presence and of His great plan for my life. Reading it three times in a row, I just bawled. I NEEDED to hear that He loved me so deeply and was with me. Yet, within minutes, I began doubting that the words were really from Him. So what did our Great God do?? He gave the SAME message to another woman who disciples me! Abbie called a couple of hours later, delivering the same message and terminology of how God was specifically going to use this trial in my life, how He loved me, not to push Him away, etc. Quite honestly, I was blown away!

I have to admit my tendency to become very skeptical when someone says God has spoken to them. But I can vividly remember numerous times when the Holy Spirit imprinted on my mind or heart a passage of Scripture, an image, a specific thought, even a gentle rebuking! No, I didn't audibly hear His voice. But the messages were unmistakably from Him. I was reminded this week of one such instance...it occurred after our 2nd miscarriage. I was full of tears and without words. Sitting on my bed, I placed my Bible in my lap and just cried out to God, "Lord, I don't even know what to say or ask." The following passage came to mind, and I flipped open to read this:
Psalm 63:6-8

On my bed I remember you;

I think of you through the watches of the night.

Because you are my help,

I sing in the shadow of your wings.

My soul clings to you;

your right hand upholds me.

Mind you, I had never read this psalm before! With sudden clarity, I knew that God was trying to say, "Kelley, I am so pleased that you are simply remembering Me as you sit on your bed and grieve. Let me remind you of my strength and faithfulness to uphold you if you continue to seek Me as your Helper and Comforter."  I love how He always meets you wherever you're at.

And finally, a sweet acquaintance from college found my blog, and having also just experienced a miscarriage recently, directed me to a website called Sarah's Laughter. This amazing ministry provides support, resources, devotionals, encouragement, and prayer groups for women facing infertility or child loss. It's hard to see shared heartaches as evidence of God's love. But I believe He demonstrates His love to us by connecting people who can relate to each other's experience, allowing us to see that we're not alone in our situation. I have a couple of friends whom I have connected with simply through our shared experiences of miscarriages, and it has been so validating and uplifting to walk through our grief together.

Maybe you will find some of these resources as a love letter from God to you. We all experience painful times...breakups, deaths, infertility, job loss, divorce, affairs, illness, and various trials. I am not sure I could endure the hard times if I didn't know the love and peace that comes from my Savior, Jesus Christ. He truly SAVES me day by day from despair, isolation, bitterness, anxiety, and all the consequences of living in that darkness. I hope that this analogy of love letters from our Savior will help all of us recognize the message God sends us through His gifts and blessings. We are indeed loved by the Creator of the universe and the Author of life. And at the end of a difficult, tear-filled, heart-wrenching day....that makes all the difference in the world to me.

With love and gratitude,

Choices

This morning I put on the Praise Baby dvd for Carter so I could clean up dishes and make my coffee.  The words of a familiar praise song floated into the kitchen: "He gives and takes away. He gives and takes away. My heart will choose to say, Lord blessed be Your Name." 

Those few lyrics gripped my heart.  Whenever I have sung that song before, it never seemed difficult to bless God's name.  It seemed hard to fathom that a decision would ever need to be involved.  But this morning, I realized I had to make a choice.  You see, I am angry and disappointed, and though God's ways are above our ways, though I know His plan is best and His lovingkindness and faithfulness are everlasting, I am finding it hard to praise Him.  My head knows truth, but my heart feels jaded.  

Yesterday, our doctor confirmed that we have miscarried twins.  After weeks of constant monitoring by a specialist, giving myself three shots a day, and taking precautionary measures to achieve a successful pregnancy, we've experienced loss again.  I have wanted twins since I was a kid, so this loss was even more devastating than I could imagine. After all, what are the chances that I will conceive twins again?  It's also been quite an emotional roller coaster. Last week, we were told that we might lose both babies. One sac was even empty, signaling a potential case of the vanishing twin syndrome.  By Friday, after family and friends lifted us up in prayer, the smaller sac miraculously revealed growth inside. Against all odds and expectations, the Lord seemed to be answering our prayers!  Our doctor was very encouraged and felt that at least the larger baby was doing well.

Yesterday's results were quite a shock to say the least.  I had believed God was demonstrating the power of prayer, and all glory would have been given to Him since our babies were defying medical odds. I was suddenly faced with a question of monumental importance: Is God really good?

Carolyn Custis James wrote an amazing book entitled "When Life and Beliefs Collide."  She wrote of the importance of women having a solid theology, a true understanding of God and His nature.  Because when life throws us sadness, disappointments, and in worst cases, tragedies, it becomes so easy to throw our hands up and doubt everything we've ever claimed about God and who He is.  Yet when we read God's Word, which we know to be steadfast and true, we are reminded of His promises.  

As I've read Scripture that speaks of His lovingkindness, faithfulness, compassion, mercy, and power, my anger has slowly begun to dissolve. The ice around my heart has begun to melt.  Reading Psalm 111, a psalm which I read every night since last Friday in praise of God and His deeds, I am reminded of the truths I so readily believed when circumstances matched up with my desires.  The real test comes when outcomes do not end up as we expect or desire, when situations don't make sense in our human understanding.  In those moments, we really do have a choice. A choice to believe God's Word and to allow Him to lead me forward. Or a choice to turn my back and remain angry. I know God is big enough to handle my anger, but staying in a place of frustration will only make my path of grief and healing nearly impassible.

I continually stare at our numerous ultrasound pictures, trying to grasp the reality that these sweet babies (whom we nicknamed Peanut and Lil' Bit) are no longer with us.  They have joined their siblings in heaven.  Five children in heaven. Wow. What a joyous reunion we'll one day have. But how bittersweet everything seems now.

As I await that glorious day, I choose to follow my Lord and Savior.  It's not necessarily an easy choice.  It's not what I "feel" like doing.  But the more I allow God to be my refuge and my comforter, the more I find peace and rest amidst this unbearable sadness.  Perhaps my faith untested is not real faith at all.   

If you feel led at all to pray for us, please pray that I will, moment by moment, choose to bless God's name. This struggle within me is real and painful. As I read God' Word, I am praying that it will work on my inner being to transform and renew my mind.  Thank you for allowing me to share my heart. 

"The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him." Nahum 1:7

Glory Baby

Glory baby, you slipped away as fast as we could say "baby."

"Glory Baby" by Watermark

It seems surreal. Like the last week was just a dream and not reality. Just days ago, Scott and I were excitedly planning for the addition of another baby to our family. A sibling for Carter. Then as quickly as we began rejoicing in the news, we found ourselves mourning the loss of this little life.

This loss happened much earlier than our other two losses. Maybe that makes it easier. I don't know. Will we still meet this baby in heaven? Or was it too early to develop?

I always thought another miscarriage would be less devastating now that we have a child. But, in some ways, it's even more heartbreaking. I have found myself thinking thoughts like, was that our little girl? Or would this little boy have been best friends with his big brother? Would he have Carter's blue eyes or our hazel ones? Which characteristics of family members would this baby have?

While I am not mad at God, I do feel frustrated. Frustrated that this happened right before Christmas. Carter's first Christmas. Frustrated that on Christmas Day, there will be a lingering thought that we were supposed to surprise our families with the news that afternoon. Frustrated to add another date to a list of days that will forever bring a sense of loss each year. Frustrated that the next pregnancy (God willing), we won't have the same carefree joy and giddiness that we just felt, similar to our very first pregnancy, where bad news is unexpected. Next time, we'll be happy but also guarded. Fearful to embrace the baby fully with unabandoned joy until weeks later.

I just don't understand. I know miscarriages are so common, but three? Is there something wrong with my body? Has anyone out there had the same experience and discovered the cause?

I am so grateful that we have Carter, as I know there are women who are never able to conceive at all. At the same time, it's hard to suppress my desire for more children. It's heartbreaking to not be able to give my husband the gift of another child that he yearns for. And it's difficult, if not impossible, to fight off the pain of losing yet another baby. Even though I had that life for just a brief time, I am left feeling empty. Like a small piece of me is missing.

I am sad. But I am hopeful for another miracle baby. I pray that God will quickly heal me, and Scott, both physically and emotionally. I pray that His peace will replace my fears. I pray that my attention will once again turn to the Baby that we are celebrating this season. And all of you who yearn for a child, whether it be your first or your fifth, I join you in praying for a miraculous 2009.

Blessings,

Kelley

My Cup Runneth Over

Today marked Carter's first official road trip! We drove about 9 hours to Cary, NC to visit my parents for a week. Since they were in town this past weekend, I followed my dad, and my mom actually sat in the back with Carter because we weren't sure how he'd do. (As you may recall, some of his worst crying moments have been in the car when I have been driving and unable to do anything except tear up and fret.) Thankfully, he did great! And because he was in a car seat all day, he must have had some pent up energy. When we got here, he talked and cooed and squealed for over an hour. He also worked up an appetite... while in the bathtub, he grabbed his feet and shoved his left one into his mouth. The whole acrobatic routine was complete with sucking noises. Scott and I want to teach our son good social skills, but we didn't realize the lesson of sticking his foot in his mouth would come so soon.

On our way here to Cary, we stopped in Spartanburg, SC to introduce Carter to his other great-grandmother, Mimi. She has been anxious to see him, and it was so touching to finally see Carter in her arms, smiling up at her face. I will post pics of the sweet moment soon.

Below is the post I began drafting last night but did not finish because it was close to midnight and I was still packing for the trip....

What a joyful day! Scott and I not only celebrated Mother's Day, but we also had Carter dedicated to the Lord this morning at our church. As I responded to my pledge to raise Carter in a godly home, I felt the weight of responsibility but also the joy of having such a priviledge. We shared a verse we selected for Carter in honor of the occasion: "The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." -Zephaniah 3:17

As I thought about the last three and a half months of motherhood, I also reflected back over the last couple of years. Last year, Scott and I spent Mother's Day at Lake Martin with my family. Still aching for a child and mourning the loss of two babies, it was a difficult day to say the least. Scott gave me a Mother's Day card and reminded me that while I hadn't yet held a child of our own in my arms, we would one day meet our two children in heaven. On that challenging day last year, I shed some tears, prayed several desperate pleas, and in an ironic twist (or more likely through God's perfect timing and providence), conceived Carter.

One more thought that came to me today....I remembered walking out of the doctor's office on September 8, 2006, after receiving the news that the 11 week old baby inside of me had no heartbeat. Scott walked me to my car (we had met there for the appointment), and I climbed in behind the wheel practically choking on my tears and the physical pain in my chest. For some reason, a lesson about Job that I had recently heard came to mind, and I began thanking and praising God. With tears streaming, I uttered words that had to have come only through the moving of the Holy Spirit in my inner most being. Let me be real with you... I had absolutely no ounce of gratefulness in my heart, and I spoke the words perhaps out of obedience rather than true emotion. Maybe I thought I was saying what I was supposed to say, following the example of Job. In retrospect, I believe the Holy Spirit was speaking through me on my behalf. In His omniscience, He led me to say thanks for blessings that were yet to come.

What I didn't know that September day was that I was thanking God for Carter. I was thanking Him for the child He would faithfully deliver to this waiting mother. I was thanking Him for the healing He would bring about. And I was thanking Him for the joy I now feel with such overwhelming power on this Mother's Day. I learned that thanking God for the unexplainable, the unknown, and the unforeseen is what having faith is all about.




My family
Scott's family
Celebrating the Mothers

The proud daddy and grandfathers
Carter wore this gorgeous gown that was smocked by his Aunt JuJu!
Mommy and Carter
Daddy, Mommy, and Carter
After the service, we came back to our house for lunch and cake. I had prepared a bottle for Scott to give Carter while I set out the food. Carter tried to hold onto the bottle for the first time!
So I am a sucker for smocking. :) This was his Mother's Day outfit. (I find lots of "occasions" for new outfits.) :)
We all LOVE this picture! Carter was all smiles while sitting with his great-grandmother, MaMa.
More closeups of Carter in his dedication gown prior to the service. Maybe he had stage fright?

Sharing the Burden

I have been doing a lot of thinking over the last week. After all, what else is there to do when you’re up feeding your child in the dark for a few hours every night? As I mentioned in my very first post, one reason I have entered the blogging world is to motivate myself to continue writing, even during these busy, early months of motherhood. When I have recurring thoughts, I often begin “writing” in my head. And if I don’t get my thoughts down on paper soon after, I seem to lose the words. So, this post is simply an expression of my recent late-night ponderings. I can’t guarantee that anything I write is worth reading, but writing is therapeutic for me and an activity I must actively engage in if I want to prevent my writing skills from rusting.

Over the last three weeks, there have been some moments while holding Carter that I still have a hard time believing he is mine. On several occasions, I have been overcome with gratitude, and I hope that I will not quickly take him for granted. In all of our joy, I have not forgotten the parenthood trials that others are presently facing. One courageous couple, Boothe and Conor Farley (fellow Auburn grads), lost their baby girl a few months ago to a chromosomal disease called Trisomy-18. Copeland Fair was on this earth for a mere eight days but left an imprint on the hearts of thousands that will last for eternity. When I check on Carter late at night to make sure he’s still breathing, I frequently feel a twinge of sorrow as I try to imagine how the Farleys were able to endure Copeland’s blue spells and eventually let her go. I continue to read Boothe’s blog and pray for her family as they mourn the loss of their sweet girl and look to God for the next step.

Another couple, Danny and Emily Giffin, just took their son home after a 6 week stay in NICU. Danny was in seminary with me, and baby Britton was due just four days after Carter. After a placental abruption, emergency c-section, and two resuscitations, Britton miraculously survived and escaped severe brain damage despite his heart having stopped for more than eight minutes. For the first week of Britton’s life, his parents were not even able to hold him. I can barely stand to put Carter down. I can't imagine not being able to cuddle with him, particularly in those first few days of his life. Thankfully, Britton beat the odds, surprised the medical staff, and is a living example of a true miracle! Challenges may lie ahead for the Giffin family, but God has clearly equipped them to handle whatever arises.

Finally, a sorority sister from Auburn, Rachel Rikard, was diagnosed last month with non-Hodgkin’s B-cell lymphoma, just two days after giving birth to her daughter, Claire. She is now undergoing chemotherapy treatments. Rachel is handling the treatments well, and the tumor has shrunk tremendously. However, I can only imagine how challenging it must be to balance motherhood and the effects of chemotherapy.

In each of these situations, the individuals have weighed on my heart. I have struggled to know what to say to offer encouragement or hope. My heart has ached for them, and I have shed tears on several occasions in response to the difficulties they face. Words seem inadequate to express my sorrow for their trials, my hope for their futures, and my admiration for their transparency and their faith. But if there is anything I learned from my own difficulties of losing two babies through miscarriages, it has been a new approach to ministry and a changed response to others’ trials through simple expression of sorrow and validation of feelings.

Following the loss of our babies, well-meaning individuals offered words that seemed far from comforting. Trite consolations such as “you’ll have a baby someday” or “it’s all in God’s timing” were well-intentioned but ill-received. I felt like people were minimizing our loss rather than validating the depth of our pain. As a result, I felt alone in my circumstances. One of the most comforting comments I received was an honest and simplistic confession: “Kelley, I don’t know what to say. I am just so sorry.” I have gradually realized that our culture tends to avoid pain. We push people to move forward before they can process their emotions or circumstances. Particularly in Christian circles, people throw around Bible verses as if they are a fix-all. Just hear the Word, and it will solve all your problems. The reality is that God’s word offers truth, perspective, and hope, but it does not eliminate pain or suffering. Authentic Christianity isn’t covering up our wounds with proverbial band-aids but allowing a hurting, unbelieving world to witness the rawness of our pain and the restorative power of a compassionate, loving God.

In reading Boothe Blanton Farley’s blog, I believe she touched the most people when she was vulnerable and transparent with her anger and pain. The responses from those who validated her feelings were refreshing, and I would venture to say, most comforting. Scripture and positive thoughts are no doubt helpful and uplifting, but they should never be offered without careful thought and sensitivity to the timing and circumstances. Authenticity on both sides seems to facilitate deeper healing because the individuals refuse to glaze over the pain.

We all have trials we are currently facing or desires left unfulfilled. It’s easy to tell each other to "simply have faith." When words don’t come easily, we reach for the traditional consolations, believing that those over-used words are at least better than saying nothing at all.

Being real and authentic is not easy. But it reveals the strength that comes from helping each other share the burden. Contrary to popular Christian assertions, desire or pain is not weakness. Faith is not a substitute for desire but rather a complement. It is the two dynamics working together that allow us to persevere and grow in faith and holiness. In validating each other's pain or desires, we experience vulnerability that eventually leads to freedom. And as Paul teaches in 1 Peter 1:7, it's the endurance of longing, not the avoidance of our hearts' suffering, that has the opportunity to prove our faith genuine.

*Please consider lifting up in prayer the families mentioned. You can read their stories on the blogs and site below:
http://www.thegiffens.blogspot.com/
http://www.conorbootheandgirls.blogspot.com/
www.caringbridge.org/visit/rachelrikard