It’s wild the difference a year makes. There are some dates in the diary that stand out above all the others - anniversaries, birthdays, holidays or memorials. They cause us to stop and reflect, to rejoice or grieve as we remember what we’ve lost or celebrate how far we’ve come. They are markers of our journey, our history, our walk. Today is the anniversary of when we miscarried our second baby, Victor Peace. It’s a solemn moment, thinking about what could have been, what has been lost. Memories of that day trigger sadness, and a realisation of how different life could have been if that little heartbeat had just lived. But they also awaken a deep gratitude that I didn’t fully have before walking through such loss. I’m grateful for the community that swept us into their arms in such a profound way, and went from calling us friends to adopting us as family. I’m grateful for my husband whose dedication and love for me and our family has fought for us in our hardest season to date, teaching me so much about what it really means to lay down your life for one another. I’m grateful for those two little heartbeats that I carried in my womb, if only for a short while, as they taught me like no one else before the preciousness and beauty of life. They’ve changed me, stretched my heart wider, caused me to see clearer, and marked me forever with a mother’s love. I’m thankful for God’s grace which carried us through grief and has brought us out into a wide open space to dream again. I’m grateful for the fresh hope we have, for the promises that have been spoken over us, and for the family that will yet inhabit the earth with us. I’m grateful for God’s faithfulness, His love for us, and His radical blessing on our lives. I’m so beyond thankful that God does not waste a thing, but everything is redeemed in Him and nothing is lost. When I sat down to write this all I knew was that I wanted to share this anniversary with you all. I wanted to acknowledge the date, June 6th, and share what this calendar marker will always mean to me. I didn’t know quite what would flow from my heart, but as I sit here typing I realise that it is all thankfulness. This might seem like an odd response on the anniversary of a death, but I share this because I believe it shows the power of what God can do in our lives. I believe it shows the enormity of what is available to us if we have the courage to let God into those most broken of places. He gives us beauty instead of ashes. This past week, I sat with a dear friend who, just a few days prior, had miscarried their baby. In that moment, as we looked into each other’s eyes, we sat in the silence of loss and yet also found ourselves comforted by the presence of the other. Maybe you find yourself on the eve of an anniversary that isn’t ‘Facebook sharing appropriate’, or you haven’t even found yourself able to share with anyone at all. Maybe you avoid those dates in the diary that cause you to look back and remember because they’re too painful or uncomfortable to do so. Maybe you haven’t yet encountered the redemption to that lost dream or relationship and so you’ve stopped searching for fresh hope. I just feel to say that your story matters, your journey matters. Every loss is redeemable and not one life enters this world without leaving a mark. Whatever this day means to you, whatever season you find yourself in, or whatever state your heart is in today, you are not alone. May you be drawn into family, may you find the ones that you can both weep and rejoice with, may you be able to remember without pain and dream with renewed hope. May you find yourself in love with the one who loves you the most, and be overwhelmed with the goodness of God in seasons of loss and of new life. May you be able to look back over the journey of your life as you continue forward, and see how God has always crowned you in beauty and removed all of your ashes.
Beautiful Hindsight
