A Lament

Today I'm choosing to remember all that God has done.

But first I will lament. (Humor Me)

Today is the official due date for Ella Grace Thurman.

But there will be no delivery today.

There will be no newborn cries.

No pink and white dress.

No polka dots or balloons announcing her arrival.

I will get no epidural.

I will not push or be prepped for another c-section.

There will be no congratulations.

John Owen will not wear an "I'm the Big Brother" shirt.

There will be no wrinkled pink skin

Or eyes to wonder at their color.

Today will just be---silent.

BUT (And I wish I could proclaim this "but")

I will lament no longer.

Someone said (today actually) that when we obey God, we see Him.

Today I remember the supernatural, large, incredible, indescribable

GRACE OF GOD

I experienced during my pregnancy with my daughter.

Today I rejoice at the greatness of God

At His reality

At His realness

At His mercy

At His truth

At His kindness

At His glory

I received a knowledge of our Creator, of the great Conductor of Life when He first formed

my daughter in my womb, revealed the knowledge of her birth defect and eventually called her back to Himself that I did not have before.

Nor could I have this knowledge without the deep, deep, deep, deep pain of hearing your daughter will die, praying, no begging that she be healed, and then hearing silence as an ultrasound tech listens for a heartbeat.

There are no mountaintops without valleys.

Some valleys are deeper than others.

But there is sweet, sweet knowledge of our Savior to be acquired for those willing to keep their eyes

open to the pain and see the Father through it all.

God does what God does for His glory.

I rejoice that He chooses to use me.

For my daughter, Ella Grace Thurman, September 30, 2010