There's a soundtrack for this post. "Praise Him in Advance" by Marvin Sapp - listen here:
June 12, 2022
I've been making some decisions. The first was that we needed to return to Theo's routine as much as possible. I'm not afraid of letting him see us grieve but I could tell those first two weeks were distressing him. So I've been getting out of bed and doing what I need to do to take care of him and get him back to his normal.
Another decision I've made is about continuing to serve. I thought at first that I would withdraw from all the ways I was volunteering at church. But then the first Sunday we went back to service was the bake sale for the students raising money to go to camp. As soon as the first students greeted me at the door, sudden joy filled my heart.
Everyone from church has been so supportive. We've been on a meal train since March when my hyperemesis gravardium got bad. People have continued to bring us food and volunteer to help any way we can imagine. The most helpful thing, in my opinion, is prayer. I'm asking everyone to pray for us. And corporate worship. Especially the music portion of the worship.
Sometimes worship is descriptive - it displays what is already going on inside our hearts. In my life, more often, it's been prescriptive. It is the medicine my heart needs. I sing on Sundays because I need to declare the truth. And as I sing, slowly an obstinate attitude is returning to my heart. I still believe beauty is one of the most potent medicines for grief, but before I ever discovered that I already believed in the power of worship as a prescription for those of us who struggle to get up in the morning.
In middle school I saw a graphic once of a girl's feet hitting the bedroom floor as she got out of bed in the morning. It said something along the lines of making it the goal that when she gets up in the morning, satan says, "Oh shit. She's up again." I remember loving that and wanting that to be my story. So I'm singing and it's strengthening me and I'm slowly starting to believe the words I'm singing again.
Everyone at church has been asking me what I'm thinking and what my head space looks like. I told them that I keep thinking of 2 Samuel 12. It's the only story I can recall that is anything similar to what we're going through even though the surrounding context is 100% different.
It's the story where David has been praying and weeping for a week for the life of his child. When his son died on the seventh day, everyone was afraid to tell him because he had been mourning so deeply and they were scared of what he would do when he found out. But he realized and he got up and went to the temple and worshiped. No one understood. So he explained:
"While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept. I thought, 'Who knows? The Lord may be gracious to me and let the child live.' But now that he is dead, why should I go on fasting? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me" (2 Samuel 12:22-23).
I've been telling my church family that David only had a week to anticipate his son's death. I'm getting 5 months and the reality is that I just cannot pray and weep for 5 straight months. It's not sustainable and frankly it's exhausting.
So...
So I'm going to sing instead.
I'm going to keep Theo on his routine as best as I can and give myself grace when I fall apart and need a day in bed.
I'm going to move forward with organizing summer play dates for church because these people give me life. And because I'm excited for how good the socialization will be for Theo.
I'm going to play with him more often and cherish every moment because he cracks me up and gives me a reason to smile every single day.
I'm going to keep volunteering for the student ministry because it's my calling and getting to use my training refreshes me in a way I've been sorely missing since I quit teaching to be a stay-at-home-mom. And because focusing on others for 2 hours a week instead of feeling sorry for myself is just right.
I'm going to take advantage of my in-laws coming in town so that Michael and I can go see Shakespeare in the Park and the Downton movie and Dinosaurs Eat People (known as Jurassic World III to the rest of you). Because I really just want to be alone with my husband and because the entertainment takes our minds off of all of this for a moment and gives us a break from the unceasing grief. And because dinosaurs are awesome.
I'm going to start planning the most beautiful service and burial for Abigail that anyone has ever seen or heard of because I will never get to help her plan her wedding. I'm going to mail out name announcements for her to celebrate her because she is worth celebrating. I'm going to buy her that swaddle from Copper Pearl with the wildflowers on it and find her the most soft footless jammies I possibly can so that she can be comfy her entire life. And I'm going to do freaking maternity photos if I can. I always judged people who did those and thought they were so "extra" but this is her time. She is blooming now and I am going to seize every moment.
I'm not ashamed to be a type-A crazy lady. I love planning events. And even though this probably sounds like the most morbid thing anyone has ever said, I am excited to plan her burial and memorial service for her. The Bible says that good parents love to give good gifts to their children and that God is the best of the best (Matthew 7:9-11). He loves to give us good gifts (James 1:17). I want to be like Him and I want to celebrate and honor her with this gift. I am going to be the best momma for her that I can be.
And so help me God, I am going to sing. Because He is good and He is worthy and I will not let my emotions or my circumstances convince me otherwise.
I've had my share of ups and downs....times when there was no one around. God came and spoke these words to me: "Praise will confuse the enemy." So...I started singing. I started clapping. I started dancing. People were laughing! They knew my problems and they knew my pain, but I knew God would take them away...C'mon let's praise Him in advance!
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