End of One, Beginning of Another

Each day in our lives can represent the end of one journey and the beginning of another. The old and the new. The death and the life.

Easter was a symbolic time for me in several ways this year. As I celebrated the death and life of the risen Christ, I also celebrated the baptism of some dear friends who reminded me that those who profess Christ as their Lord and Savior, have experienced a true spiritual death and rebirth. The old is gone and the new has come. It was a good reminder of that process and of God's work in my life.

It is not by coincidence that Easter comes at a time every year when the winter passes and the spring comes.

The barren trees, once again bear fruit.

New life begins. Flowers are planted and color is once again seen among the once drab and dreary backdrop of life.

Similarly, there have been some ugly areas in my life that I feel God has revealed to me in real ways lately and I felt as though my months of wrestling through them and laying them at His feet culminated with the freedom of new life that came at their timely death. Something happened for me this year around Easter. I started to really embrace the freedom that is truly ours in Christ. I think I have fought it for a long while - always feeling like the burden is mine to carry. "My cross", so to speak. While I do know and believe that God is Sovereign over our lot in life and our individual roads that He has ordained us to walk, I do know that it is not up to me to make sense of it all. It's not up to me to have all the answers. It's not up to me to make it through them all alone. It's not up to me. It's not about me.

As many of you know, I had a miscarriage in mid- January. At that time, I was somewhere between 6 and 8 weeks along, they were not quite sure. There are many things I remain ever so grateful for in the midst of such an emotionally difficult time. One of those things was that I was early enough along in my pregnancy to have a choice in how to proceed. I could proceed in one of three ways: 1) naturally 2) chemically (drug-induced) or 3) surgically (DNC). Being this was my first miscarriage, my initial choice was to go as natural as possible. I will spare the details.

Most friends that I had talked with, who had walked similar roads, told of their experiences going naturally and the doctor concurred that it should take a few days to a week - two at most- for my body to process and cleanse itself, naturally. For me, one week turned into five or six, then into 8 or 9 and on into even 12 weeks. Each day was taken prayerfully, wrestling through emotions and questions, tears and laughs, some fear and some peace. To this day, I cannot medically explain why it took my body so long to process something that should normally take, on average, 5 days, but I do know all that God taught me in the waiting.

I do know the areas of sin in my life that were exposed as a result of this waiting. My tendency to take things under my own control. My impatience. My ability to quickly look for the easy way out, knowing that what He was really calling me to, was more waiting. Silence and waiting. (uh - which I don't do well) My tendency to doubt His goodness. My dwelling on myself and my defeated feelings when God has been, is and will always be, victorious and asks that our eyes stay fixed on Him.

I do know the areas that he allowed me to face head on. There was no way around them this time. It was time for me to grow up spiritually, if that makes sense. Time for me to own up to certain things and to die to others, because then and only then can new life form and thrive.

Last week, I took my final pregnancy test and it read the words that I have been ironically looking for these past 12 weeks: not pregnant.

Thank you, Father. Thank you that you have allowed this chapter in my life to close and I do pray that this is the beginning of a new, fruitful and humbly obedient one in every way. Thank you, that even when Satan creeps in and stirs questions around in my head and rises up fear within me, that you remind me of Your faithfulness and Your goodness and Your provision in this harsh winter of my life. That Your plans are higher than mine and Your thoughts likewise. For that is the truth, Your truth, that I hold tightly to now. Thank you for the areas that you have called me to die to, for your namesake and not my own pride. Thank you for your patience with me. Thank you for not giving up on me when I have pleaded and wrestled longingly in your presence, sometimes with unkind words and thoughts. Thank you for your love. A love that I cannot ever leave and one that you sent your Son to die for. Thank you.

Amen.

I do know and feel the burden that has been lifted off of me in the last few weeks. It's hard to explain, but oh is it real. To me. This color. This vibrancy. This taste of life; this new life, at that. Oh is it a good place to be! I am thankful for the cold and abrasive winter - in season and in living. How joyous and free it is to embrace and look anxiously to this next chapter of spring and all that God has chosen to reveal to us in yet another ... season. Here's the to the end of one and the hopeful beginning of another.