The last few weeks have really been quite the journey for me. I've walked through the joys of being pregnant to the sorrows of losing that little life. It's been a slow, sometimes difficult journey this last week. Unlike last time I miscarried, I am constantly reminded that I am not pregnant anymore but was. From the tiny bit of baby weight that I am trying to lose to the whole process of actually miscarrying naturally, it has been a painful, sad, bitter thing. Jesus has been so faithful this whole time too. While I am grieving, His Presence is so close. I'm finding that I am so much more aware of other things right now too. Sin breaks my heart more. I hurt more for people that are hurting. I think I smile more for those who are rejoicing during this season too. I feel like I am really beginning to learn how to "practice the presence of God" in the mundane moments of life. I love Jesus more now than I did a few weeks ago. I've been struggling the last few days with a question that God asked me during my quiet time the day after I miscarried. He asked me, "Will you still love me if things don't get better?" You see, this whole time I have been comforting myself thinking, "Surely. Things will get better." But, what if they don't? What if God doesn't give us any more children? What if we miscarry again and again? What if I lose even more than I have already lost? Will I still love Him if things just get worse and worse here on earth?
I'm convinced that when things go wrong that God doesn't want us to comfort ourselves with the idea that things will get better. They may not. In this world, Jesus promised us we would have trouble... tribulation. So, where do we turn to when things just keep getting worse... when we feel like our hearts will break if we hear any more bad news or hear one more harsh word said by those around us?
Jesus. He told His disciples, "I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” John 16:33
Jesus knew what was coming. His disciples would be cast out from their families, imprisoned for His name, and rejected by the world. For us too, Jesus has to be enough. He has to be what satisfies. In the end, He is all we really have here on earth. Nothing else will make me o.k. or make me happy. Jesus has to be everything. He is.