Psalm 18:1-2

I will love thee, O LORD, my strength. The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.
Psalm 18:1-2

Sunday, September 16, 2012

.....for they shall be comforted.

I wrote a post last week about where I was on September 11,2001.  Hubbie and I were at home, recovering from our first miscarriage.  It was a very trying time for us, and obviously for many.

We stayed home for several days, resting physically and just trying to make it through emotionally.  It was so hard.  The pain in your heart is like a ripping, a tearing away, a very physical pain. The only comfort we found was in the presence of one another.  We knew one another's pain; we shared the same sorrow.  And for a few days we shut ourselves out from the rest of the world.  We received cards and phone calls, and prayers, and words of encouragement.  And food; we got a lot of food.  Too bad neither one of us was very hungry.  We also received some words that, though spoken with good intentions, did nothing but pour salt on our wounds.  Words that pierced; words that cut.  I don't care what the nursery rhyme says, words can hurt you. 

It was a really, really hard time for us; for me.  I had never experienced ANYTHING like this in my entire life.  I had no idea I could feel such internal pain; I never thought it would happen to me.

And spiritually, the battle had just begun.

"My God, my God why hast thou forsaken me? Why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring?" Psalm 22:1

I cried and screamed and moaned to the Lord. Why?  I didn't understand; how could He let this happen? I was a good person.  I did everything right.  I stopped drinking caffeine, I took all the right vitamins, I rested, I did everything I was supposed to do.  And it didn't make one lick of difference.

Girls, and I do mean girls, were having babies, while I lost mine.  People who didn't even care about kids were having multiple, and I couldn't even have one.  Why?

Oh I must have asked that question a thousand times.  Over and over again.

I wanted to know why. I wanted to know the reason.  (I have always had this trait; my parents say it was quite a challenge when I was growing up.)

So, I pursued God.  I figured if anyone knew it would be Him, and I would make Him tell me.  (ok that statement makes me laugh just writing it, but oh how i believed it at the time :))

I sought hard for an answer, any answer. I had to know; I had to find one!

But I never did.

You know what I did find?


I found God.  the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.

Through the suffering and through the pain, I discovered a more intimate, tangible relationship with Christ than I could have ever imagined.

"And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.  And I will be found of you, saith the Lord:..."  Jeremiah 29:13-14a

I found comfort.  I found love.  I found One who knew my suffering, who had suffered Himself.  I found the One who could understand my pain, and heal all my wounds.  I found peace.

Because I found Him.

And though I may never know why, and though the ache in my heart may never go away, I know Him and He will never forsake me.

"Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted."  

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