Warning: It's August

It’s only the sixth day of this lovely month, and I’m already feeling the heavy weight of sadness.  Last week, we were vacationing with family in Chincoteague.  The vacation was heavenly.  It really was.  So many awesome people surrounding us, making us laugh, helping with our kids.  It was a time of relaxation and bonding.

But there was this feeling I couldn’t shake off.  I tried going for a run, and everything just hit me.  The last time we were in this town, vacationing with these people, was three years ago exactly.

I was very pregnant with Gabriel, and anticipating his arrival at any moment.  We weren’t even sure if we should go on a vacation so far away.  I actually started having frequent, painful contractions during our trip home.  I remember thinking, “Great timing, Lord!”  But, that was the start of two weeks of false labor before we actually got to meet our sweet angel.

I guess being in that same place was what easily triggered all these memories.  I’ll be honest – I was kind of surprised at just how sad it all made me.  After all, it has been three years now…

His first heavenly birthday was really tough, but we expected that because it was his first one.  Then, last year at his second angelversary, I had a brand new baby girl – exactly one month old.  I remember thinking I had so much to be thankful for, there wasn’t really time to grieve my son while I dealt with my colicky bundle-of-somewhat-joy. 

And now it’s been three years.  The memories of my experience are still very vivid.  The pain is still very sharp.  And the tears keep flowing.

When we returned from vacation, I was happy to be home and able to attend church.  I so miss the connection I feel with the Holy Spirit when I am away.  Don’t get me wrong, I do feel His presence at other times, in other places, but there’s nothing like singing and crying in the dark of a theater (where my church meets.)

As I stood there praising my awesome God, already tearing up as I felt myself drawing closer to Him, we started singing a song I’d never heard before.  Here’s a link to a version very similar to what we sang:

And when I read those lines…

"Oh, joy, that seeks me through the pain.

I cannot close my heart to thee.

I trace the rainbow through the rain,

and feel the promise is not in vain,

that morn shall tearless be.

So anoint me with joy,

And joyful I will be."

…  I became a complete puddle.  Crying way beyond just damping my eyes with a tissue.  No, at that point, there was nothing I could do to contain all my emotion.  So, I just cried.  And I felt like God himself was saying those words to me, reminding me of his goodness and his mercy and his profound promise to bring me a rainbow after my storm.  And all I have to do is ask him to anoint me with joy, and I can have it!  It was just what I needed to hear.  And it left me absolutely BROKEN.  I honestly remember thinking that was the only word to describe how I felt after that song…

A few minutes later, our Pastor begins preaching.  And guess what the sermon was about?  Brokenness.  He explained that we often choose pleasure over purpose, but that oftentimes success brings us into destruction.  He said the key point was to remember to live a LIFE of brokenness, and therefore leave a LEGACY of brokenness.  And all I could think about was how grateful I was that I lost my Gabe because the experience gave my life such purpose – a purpose to show others that when you go through something awful you either become bitter… or broken.  And that brokenness is a blessing!