Sorrow Becoming Joy

Recently, Craig and I set out to read the Gospels a little differently than we had before. Craig suggested we try reading them more quickly, like you would a novel, hoping to see the story somewhat differently by viewing it as a whole. He was quite committed and finished them all quite quickly...

Me, not so much. In fact, I am finally finishing up John... a couple weeks late.

Now, I've read the book of John, studied it even, before. But the beauty of the Bible is how it can be the same text and yet strike my heart so differently at times depending on the season that I am in. Verses in a passage that I've quickly skimmed by before can stand out like a sore thumb later, as my experiences in life change and grow. Such was the case recently as I read in the book of John.

I was towards the end, in chapter 16. The picture here is a quite beautiful, intimate, yet somber, one. Jesus and His disciples are seated here, sharing their last evening together. He has washed their feet, served them the Passover supper. He is also fully aware of what is about to come. And so, He begins to teach, to pour out Truth to these beloved men He has walked with, eaten with, shared life with for the past three years.

The same men He is about to leave.

He gives them words of instruction, how to persevere through the trials they will soon face. He gives them words of encouragement, of hope at the coming of the Holy Spirit. He gives them words of assurance, that they can be confident as they abide in Him, the True Vine. His words are laced with love, peace, joy, and hope. But they are also laced with sadness, with sorrow.

And then He comes to share with them some of the hardest words, "A little while, and you will no longer see me..."

Huh? Come Again?

But He doesn't stop there: "... and again a little while, and you will see me."

They still didn't get it; the disciples were still confused.

So he goes further:

"Truly, truly I say to you, that you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; you will grieve, BUT your grief will be turned to joy."

Kind of ambiguous. He tells them that He is going to leave them, that they are going to be heartbroken, but that they will see him again, and their heartbreak become joyful. No specifics.

He does, however, offer a helpful analogy, just in case some of them still don't understand, don't grasp his message of hope:

"Whenever a woman is in labor she has pain, because her hour has come; but when she gives birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy that a child has been born into the world."

Now, reading that a year ago, it meant very little to me. But now, having given birth to our beautiful baby Loran, I can completely understand. We gave birth naturally, without medicine, at the recommendation of our doctor in order to give us the best chance of meeting her. And I can tell you: the real deal hurts. Its excruciatingly painful. But the joy that you feel the moment you see your child in your arms, well, its makes it all pass away.

There is no comparison; the pain and suffering and the joy that comes are NOT equal.

The joy wins by a landslide.

And so it would be for the disciples. They would hurt, be devastated, be utterly broken as they watched their Savior, their Lord, their Friend, die a brutal, undeserved death.

BUT it doesn't end there.

Just as He promised, the joy came- He rose again! And what was a sorrowful event, became a joyful one, as they began to understand the necessity, the greater good that had come as a result.

So it has been with us. God has begun turning our sorrow into joy.

Though our story is no comparison to the triumph of the Cross, it has been beautiful to see how God's ability to bring light from darkness, beauty from ashes, good from evil, has proven true in our own lives.

The first few days and even first few months following Loran's passing were complete and utter sadness. We had peace, sure, but it hurt. Our hearts were devastated, crushed by the weight of deep, deep sorrow.

But slowly, over time God has transformed bits of that sorrow into joy.

Joy through Remembering. Remembering her moving around in the womb, remembering the sight of her face for the first time, holding her little hand. Remembering a hospital room filled with love and joy. Remembering the body of Christ pouring over us love and prayers. Remembering a peace that passed all understanding. But Joy also through Stories. Stories of how her life has impacted others. Stories of how others remember her. Stories of how her life helped others grow in their faith, in their love for the Lord. Stories of how others have been moved to give and do on her behalf. And our own Stories. Stories of how our own little family has been drawn closer, bonded so much deeper, become so much more open and loving, as we have walked through this together.

And so we have Joy. Not Happiness, not gladness that our daughter is gone. I miss her everyday.

But joy. Joy that God had bigger plans at work.

And we believe that one day, our sorrow will more fully become Joy, as we meet our Savior, and understand. And ALL of the sorrows of this Earthly life will pass away as we bow down before Him and Worship... maybe even alongside our sweet girl.

My deep, deep prayer is that if you are reading this, and you are experiencing any type of earthly sorrow that is beyond your control, that you would trust Him enough to ask Him to help you see how your sorrow can be made into joy as you glorify Him! Seek Him in His Word, Dwell on the Truth that is found there! Even as I write this, I am praying that God would continue to use our story to help bring His hope,  His Joy into your life.

And now, I would like to share another way that our family has been granted joy...

We are expecting a little brother or sister for Lincoln, Truit, and Loran in June of 2016!

Thank you, all of you, who have prayed and continue to pray for us. We are so blessed. 

God is SO Good.

Praying that you are reminded of the Joy of the Lord this Holiday Season!

Love,

The Hardemans

Straight?

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

Lean not on your own understanding,

In all your ways acknowledge Him, 

and He will make your paths straight."

Proverbs 3:5-6

The paths before me look ANYTHING but straight.

Twisted. Dark. Difficult. Painful. Confusing. All words that would be among those I might choose to describe the paths before us, but definitely not straight.

The paths before me look anything BUT straight.

My own understanding looks at the road ahead and immediately rushes into overdrive. Trying to plan, trying to reason, trying to to "work it all out", desperately trying to reconcile the brokenness, the pain, the wickedness of this world with the goodness and love of God.

And yet, I can't.

Because in the midst of "my understanding" and "my wisdom", a deeper thought pervades my mind, swiftly bringing  all others to a halt:

"My ways are not your ways, 

My thoughts are not your thoughts."

At the sound of those words, the way before, strangely enough, becomes clear. Or rather, my way becomes clear.

His Spirit reminds me..

 Trust in the Me. Don't try to figure it all out, just do everything for My Glory. And I will be faithful. And one day, when you look back, when you see where I was really taking you, it will all look straight.  

But for now: Trust. Surrender. Glorify Me.

I don't mean that the future has suddenly revealed itself, that its all uphill from here, that things will all turn out the way we want. But rather, it has been revealed to me that no matter what the future holds, the path is straight because God is leading it and the path is peaceful because He promises to walk it with me. Each step of the way, exactly where He has already purposed.

The future is His; Obedience is Mine.

The future of the path is His to determine, His to map out. Faithfulness to walk it humbly and obediently is mine to carry on.

Faithful obedience, to Trust, to Surrender, to Glorify God.

My prayer for anyone reading this is that whatever the paths before you may seem like, rest in the knowledge that the One who created the path promises to make it straight if you trust Him, surrender to Him, glorify Him.

Please continue to pray for us as we seek to glorify our Father in Heaven in the good days and in the hard days...

Holes

Holes. In the weeks since Loran's birth and passing, that's what I feel most- the holes. A hole in the ground where her body now resides. The hole in my arms where there was supposed to be a baby girl to hold. The hole in our family of five, only four of which are present. The hole in my future where my purpose was to stay home and care for our little girl, but there is no little girl who needs to be cared for. And the deepest hole is the one left in my heart- the emptiness that comes from the loss of hopes and dreams, the loss of a relationship with my daughter as I watch her grow and become a young woman. All this love for a little girl who isn't here to receive it.

I am acutely aware of the holes.

And I know that anyone that is reading this who has ever experienced a loss of any kind (death, divorce, rejection, severed relationships, etc.) has felt, or may be still feeling, the holes. The empty places that were once filled with a presence, a love, a relationship, but now stand as a stark reminder of that which has been removed or "dug out" from your life.

As I have wrestled with these holes, I started wondering if there were any holes in the bible and what God did with them or how He used them. It probably sounds silly, but when I struggle with things, I always wonder if they are somewhere in the bible. I am not a biblical scholar of any sort, just a woman who loves to read God's Word. So my simple mind googled the word "hole" to find out how many times and where it is found in the bible. It was actually in there quite a few times, but there were three times when it stuck out to me and I received some personal application that I want to share with you.

The first hole I was taken to was that of Joseph. Most of you probably know the story of Joseph, which begins in Genesis 37 and continues through to the end of the book. But at the beginning of Joseph's story, we see a hole- a hole that he was thrown into by his own brothers and left to die. His own brothers. I wonder what went through that young teenage boy's mind as he sat there, betrayed by not one, not two, but eleven of his brothers. What fears, doubts, hurts did he feel as he waited to die in a dry pit with nothing to eat, nothing to drink...?

But his story doesn't end there- it doesn't end in the hole. His brothers come and get him when they realize they can sell him as a slave for profit instead... and thus begins a long and difficult road to the exact place that God had predestined Joseph to be. In Genesis 50:19-20, we hear Joseph share with his brothers what he has come to understand: That though they intended to hurt Joseph, God used it for good. So my first understanding was this: God is sovereign in the holes. I don't know what actually went through Joseph's mind while he sat in that hole, but I seriously doubt it was that this was all part of God's bigger plan for his good. Maybe, but it seems unlikely. Yet, it was. And so are many of the "holes" in our lives- they are things that look bad, seem ugly and feel unredeemable. But God uses them. He redeems them and we find that they are really part of His plan, His design to bring us to exactly where He wants us to be.

Now the next "hole" that I was taken to is a little different, and the personal application I found was somewhat indirect, but it was a hole nonetheless and one that spoke to me...

In the book of Ezekiel, we see him prophecy to the exiled Israelites regarding their sinfulness, judgement, repentance, and future restoration. In Chapters 8-11 of the book, Ezekiel is given a vision by God in which the sin of Jerusalem, particularly in the Temple, is being revealed to him, along with the consequences Israel will suffer as a result of their desecration of God's Holy Place. In Chapter 8, Ezekiel's vision of the temple begins. He is led to the entrance of the temple. He sees a hole in the wall of the temple and is then asked to dig it out. As he digs, he then enters the temple through the hole he has dug and before him the hidden idolatry of Israel's leaders is revealed. It is a devastating sight... the very men who had been charged with leading Israel in worship and devotion to God were secretly devoted to other gods, giving their worship to those who would not save them, in the very place that God had designed for His own worship.

In the same way that Israel's idolatry was revealed to Ezekiel as he looked through the hole, so holes in my life reveal my own foolish idolatry. Its often as things are dug out from my heart that the holes reveal the division there, the worship and devotion to things other than the Lord. It's not until financial security is removed that I realize how much I love money. It's not until I'm sick that I realize how deeply I desire good health. And it's not until I lose someone I love that I realize how much hope I had placed in life on this earth. Its often the absence of things that reveals how deeply rooted they once were in my heart. God is a jealous God. He desires to be loved with ALL of our heart, mind, and soul. Nothing less will suffice. So sometimes he uses holes help us to see how we can put aside the cares of this world so that our hearts be more fully devoted to Him.

And the last set of "holes" that I found were the most significant to me. They are the holes of love, of sacrifice, of redemption. In all of the gospels, we read of Jesus' crucifixion in which nails are driven into His hands and feet, making holes. And then days later we see a hole left in His side by a soldier confirming His death...

Those holes are the evidence of Jesus' death, of what He went through for me. They show how much He loved me, they show how much He sacrificed for me, and they are symbolic of His death, through which He redeemed me.

But the most beautiful thing to me is that they are holes of hope and joy too. Because of what He did on that cross, because of His resurrection that would come following that death, I can have hope in eternity, in a glorious kingdom beyond this earth! God brought together the greatest of sorrows- death and pain- and the greatest of joys- salvation, freedom, and eternity with Him-  through the holes that came from Christ's sacrifice on the cross! How thankful I am for those holes!

And so I sit here, looking at the deep holes in my life, the aching emptinesses, wondering what God will do with them. How will He use them to work good in my life? How will they reveal my sin and grant me deeper devotion to Him? How will He blend sorrow and joy together and give me a hope that goes beyond this world?

I have some answers to these, but much of it is still unknown... but in this I am confident:

There is no one I trust more than Him with my holes.

And so I bring them to you- my God, my King-  pouring them out before you and waiting expectantly to see all that you will do with them.

I humbly ask you to continue praying for us, that God would continue to comfort us and give us faith, peace and joy in the midst of the waves of grief... Thank you :)

Life and Love

Life is Hard. 

It brings pain, hurt, struggles that we would never choose, that we would never desire to walk through. And yet they come.

Love is Hard.

Love can lead to some of our deepest hurts, can be devastatingly painful as we experience rejection, separation, and loss.

To live and to love is hard. 

And yet life and love are simultaneously the way in which we experience many of our greatest joys, our greatest happinesses, our greatest blessings that we will ever have on this earth.

In the wake of Loran Ruth's passing from this life and into eternity, I have wrestled with what to write, what to share with you. About those twelve hours, about the funeral, about the days following... Craig and I have spent much time together these last few days, reflecting, weeping, praying... and these two things keep coming back to me: life and love. So very costly. So very rewarding. So very beautiful.

Life. Its what we begged God to give our daughter: a life.

As we laid awake, night after night following Loran's diagnosis, we prayed for our daughter. She would kick her little foot and squirm around and Craig would lay his head against my belly to listen to her heart beat and we would pray. We prayed many things, but we had one specific, consistent request: that the doctors would be wrong and that God would somehow mercifully allow Loran Ruth to be born alive. We prayed that He would graciously give us a few minutes to see her breathe, to see her look up into our faces, to feel her hand wrap around our fingers. Just alive. We just wanted her to be alive. We knew that sustaining her life was something only He could do, and  we didn't know whether it was in His will to grant it, and we trusted Him to do what He knows is best.

But we asked. Oh, how many times we asked.

So when Loran was born, and they wrapped her up and laid her immediately on my chest, there was only one thing that went through my mind: "She's Alive! Thank you Jesus, You answered our prayers and She's Alive!!" And so began Loran Ruth's life... a life filled with love.

Love. Its what we have for our daughter: deep, unconditional love.

We loved her long before we had ever seen her, ever known her. Before she could ever have done anything to earn our love, or the love of anyone else, we loved her. It was love that motivated us to pray for her from the beginning of our knowledge of her existence. It was love that motivated me as her mother to care for my body as best I knew how while I carried her. It was love that prompted us not to induce early, to continue carrying Loran full term, despite her "fatal" prognosis. It was love that moved us to enjoy each movement, each beat of her heart while she was in my womb. It was love that prayed for her continuously. It was love that got me through a natural labor and delivery, since it was her best chance for survival. It was love that filled our hearts as we heard her cry and looked into her precious face when she came into this world. And it was love that she was surrounded by each minute of those 12 1/2 beautiful hours she spent with us on earth.

As we sat next to Loran's grave a few days ago, my heart was broken. It ached for the world to know that even though I don't have my baby, I am a mother. That I gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl. That I sacrificed for her, cared for her, am proud of her. That I did everything I knew how to love her, that I would have done anything for her, would give anything not to be separated from her. I wept knowing that I would gladly have traded my life for hers, if she could have lived.

And in that moment, I sat in awe of the love and sacrifice of God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ.

As His child He loves me. Long before I had the capacity to love Him, He loved me. I couldn't give up my life for Loran, couldn't lay down my life so she could live. But Christ could, and He did. He chose to give His life up for me, so that I could live. What a deep, selfless love.

And I also marveled at the sacrifice of the Father. My heart is broken at the separation between me and Loran as a result of death. Death is a product of the Fall and it separates, divides in a way that God didn't desire for humanity at Creation. I would never choose that separation, never choose for death to separate me from my daughter, from my love for her. But God did. He CHOSE to send His Son to die, knowing that He would be separated from perfect, eternal love of the Trinity. For me. He did that for Me. Wow.

I don't know who reads this, I mean I know some, but I am sure that there are people reading this that I may have never met. Because of that I want to stop here and make sure that you know that you can experience this love. The love I have for my daughter is nothing in comparison to the love God has for His Children. The love that YOU can have if you commit your life to Him, surrender to His Ways, His Love. And His Love is AMAZING. It is what has carried us through this painful time and will continue to carry us. It give us hope, it gives us strength. It can be trusted, it can heal, it is more powerful than you can ever imagine. If you want to know more about this love, feel free to contact me at mesheahardeman@gmail.com, and I would love to tell you more.

Life is Hard. Watching my sweet baby girl's soul depart from her body was hard. Leaving my baby girl in the arms of a nurse who would carry her away from me was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.

Love is Hard. Loving our baby girl fully means that her absence is very real in our hearts, in our lives. Loving her deeply means that we miss her with an ache that pierces our soul.

But we would do it all again. We would help give Loran Life and we would give her our Love. Life was God's gift to her and to us- a sweet beautiful 12 1/2 hours of life, of feeding her, touching her soft, smooth, pink skin, of hearing her cry, feeling her little hand wrap around our finger... And Love was our gift to Loran. We honored Loran's life by loving her as completely, as deeply, as fully as possible.  Her life was spent in the arms of a Mommy and Daddy who loved her, surrounded by grandparents, aunts, uncles, brother, cousins, friends who loved and cherished her.

So though life and love are often hard and painful, the blessings and moments of joy are completely and utterly worth it.

Loving Loran Ruth was completely and utterly worth it.

Here are a few pictures of Loran Ruth Hardeman's sweet life :)

 Mommy and Daddy watching Loran suck on her little fingers. 

We used to watch her do this on the ultrasound!

Sweet little Loran sleeping :)

Mommy loved to look at Loran Ruth and she would just stare right back :)

 Loran was holding Daddy's finger while the nurses did some testing. When he moved his hand, she reached up to grab hold of it again... she sure loved her Daddy!

 Loran and her Me-mother 

 Loran with her Papa and Nonnie

 Mommy was so proud of Daddy and loved to watch him hold Loran Ruth and take care of her :)

 Pastor David came to visit Loran Ruth soon after she was born... 

He sure loves babies!

 Aunt Jen and Aunt Marsha were there to love on Loran Ruth and take a million bazillion pictures of her! Thank you for making sure we had all those memories to cherish :)

Loran Ruth Hardeman

The most beautiful blessing I've ever been given :)

Given, and Taken Away

And he said, “Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” Job 1:21

As some of you already know, we welcomed our daughter, Loran Ruth Hardeman, into this world at 7:35 a.m. yesterday, May 28th, 2015. We got to spend a beautiful 12 hours and 30 minutes with her loving her, holding her, cherishing each breath, gaze, yawn, and cry, before she left us at 8:05 p.m. yesterday evening.

 

We have arranged for there to be a Memorial Service at Covenant Baptist Church of Valdosta, Georgia to celebrate her life tomorrow, May 30, 2015. There will be a visitation time at 9:30 a.m. followed by the service at 10:30 a.m. A Graveside Service will follow at the Riverview Memorial Gardens. 

We would love for anyone who would like to come be a part of our celebration for little Loran's life with us. She was a glorious gift from God, and we are blessed to have been her parents on this Earth.

Thank you for your outpouring of love and prayers. We can never thank you enough for the invaluable comfort of these during such a heartbreaking and difficult time in our lives. 

Strength

Fear.


Sadness.

Pain.

Anger.

Bitterness.

Doubt.

They're all there.

They're there when I watch a very pregnant mother at Target choosing cute newborn baby clothes and wish I had a reason to do the same.

They're there when I wake up in the middle of the night, panicking because I can't pinpoint that last time I felt her move, and I'm not sure whether the dreaded moment has finally arrived.

They're there when a kind cashier excitedly asks my due date and if we've found out whether its a boy or girl.

They're there as I prepare for the difficulty of childbirth, aware that our "prize" won't get to go home with us.

They're there as we make funeral home arrangements for our very active and alive daughter.

And they're there in those moments just before sleep when my heart desperately wishes our daughter could be healthy, that the future was one that seemed bright with happiness at the arrival of our baby girl, that He would take this cup away.

Yes, its so very true that in those moments (and many others) fear and doubt, sadness and bitterness, anger and pain are there; they are ready. Ready to take root in us, to overwhelm us, to crush us. And in those moments, I realize how truly weak I am. Weak in my faith, weak in my trust, weak in my understanding. In my weakness,  I, Meshea, would embrace all of those feelings, those emotions and allow them to rule my heart and mind...

BUT for the grace of God.  Its because of HIS Grace that, though those feelings threaten and are ready to take over, they are thwarted.  Its in those moments, the Spirit of God demonstrates His POWER by reminding me of God's Promises, of His Faithfulness, His Sovereignty, His Steadfast Love.   And in this, He gives me Strength.

By HIS Strength, gladness can fill my heart for the blessing of a child for the woman in Target.

By HIS Strength, I have joy in my soul as I tell the cashier that our little girl is due in June.

By HIS Strength, I can be thankful for the privilege of carrying and birthing a life, of caring for Loran for all her days on this earth.

It's by HIS Strength that even as we plan her funeral, I know a peace that passes understanding that this world is not our home because eternity is with Christ. 

And its by HIS Strength that I am granted hope in God to work ALL things for good- even the brokenhearted-ness we feel over our situation.

I am so very weak... and yet, HE is so very STRONG.

I have had many people share with me that our strength during this time is an encouragement to them.  I almost laugh and I think to myself, "Me? Strong? If you only knew..." I am so pitifully weak and so I hope that if there is any encouragement, you get it from knowing that God is the strong one. Any strength you see comes from Him as He is faithful to carry out His Word:

"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

-2 Corinthians 12:9-10

If y'all don't mind, I'd like to share with you a specific request. So many of you have been faithfully bringing us before the Lord and we fully believe that He is answering those prayers by sustaining us daily. THANK YOU. We do tend to find that many of our moments of weakness come at night. If you think of us during the evening, as you prepare for bed, I would humbly ask that you pray for us to be given grace and comfort and peace as we lay down to rest and as we sleep. Again, we have complete faith that your prayers are working in our hearts and lives :)

I read this prayer the other day in Valley of Vision and it became my prayer that day. If you are reading this, I hope that whoever you are and whatever weaknesses you may be struggling with, that this will become your prayer too.

Lord God Almighty, 

I ask not to be amongst the earthly great and rich,

but to be numbered with the spiritually blessed.

May my heart be right with thee,

and my life as becometh the gospel.

May I maintain a supreme regard to another and better world,

and feel and confess myself a stranger and a pilgrim here.

Afford me all the direction, defense, support, and consolation my journey hence requires,

and grant me a mind stayed upon thee.

Give me large abundance of the supply of the Spirit of Jesus,

that I may be prepared for every duty,

love thee in all my mercies,

submit to thee in every trial,

trust thee when walking in darkness,

have peace in thee amidst life's changes.

A Fatal Condition

"... but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, 

Christ died for us."

-Romans 5:8

On April 20, 2015, our precious daughter, Loran Ruth was diagnosed with a chromosomal disorder. It was later confirmed to be Trisomy 13, which is, medically speaking, a fatal condition. It is a rather rare syndrome and we have had many questions regarding what exactly this condition is and what it means, so I would like to take a minute to share the nature of our daughter's sickness.

Trisomy is a word that means a condition in which an additional chromosome is present in the nucleus of the cell. 

So, basically God's design for the creation and development of life is very specific: 46 chromosomes. In each cell of your body, you should possess a nucleus that has 23 pairs of chromosomes (46 in all). When a trisomy occurs, it means that one of there is an additional, 47th chromosome present. Most commonly it is either the 13th, 18th, or 21st chromosome that is repeated a third time. The pictures below show the difference.

In the picture above, you see a healthy set of chromosomes- each of the numbered pairs has two.

In this picture you can see by where the red arrow points that there are three small chromosomes above the number 13. This is called Trisomy 13- an extra 13th chromosome is present.

The question then becomes: What does this mean? How does it affect our baby?

Well, when a there are the wrong number of chromosomes present, this opens the door to all sorts of physical/developmental abnormalities. Basically, the baby's body won't develop in what is considered the "normal" way. The level of severity depends on which of the chromosomes is repeated. Trisomy 21 is also known as Down's Syndrome, and many people are able to live and function into adulthood with relatively minor disabilities and cognitive delay. Trisomy 18 and Trisomy 13, however, are considered fatal- 90% of babies with these extra chromosomes do not ever reach their first birthday. The physical disabilities are usually too severe for them to survive long-term, particularly with Trisomy 13. 

In our case, this syndrome has resulted in a hole in Loran's heart, a missing artery exiting and entering her heart, a missing connection between the cerebellum in her brain, additional fingers and toes, a cleft lip and palate and some other "minor" abnormalities. With so many physical challenges, the prognosis that we have received is that our sweet baby girl will not likely live for more than a few minutes or hours at best. 

Upon learning our diagnosis,  I researched and researched and researched and researched as much information as possible to make sure I had a thorough understanding of the condition that will eventually take the life of our daughter. The more I learned, the more my heart ached for my little girl, how broken she is, how helpless she is to fix herself, and how hopeless her condition is. 

And then the Lord so clearly showed me how very much we already have in common. How she is already so much like me.

Like Loran, I was born with a fatal condition. 

We both have a condition that began at the moment of conception, and one that is basic to our very nature. Both of our conditions result in abnormalities, deformities, that develop and reveal themselves over time, specifically in the heart. And in our state, though our deformities can be repaired, it will not heal the true nature of our condition. We are both are terminal and have one ultimate prognosis: death.

Loran's condition is physical- a chromosomal disorder. Mine is spiritual- sin. Hers leads to physical abnormalities, deformities of the heart and other vital organs. My sinful deformities, though at times less obvious because they are internal, are also of the heart, rooted in the deepest parts of my soul. Though we could attempt to "fix" these abnormalities, her birth defects, or my selfish and sinful behavior, those "repairs" wouldn't fix our true nature and would lead to the same end. Her death will be a physical one, separated from the love of her father and mother on this earth. My death would have been spiritual, separated from My Father for all eternity. 

BUT there is more: we both share one hope for redemption from our condition and we are both loved with a deep, steadfast love despite it. 

My only hope for salvation from my sin, from my fallen nature is in Christ- in the sacrifice He made on my behalf, in His conquering of death that results in His power to change not just my deformities, but my very nature- my heart. He is my ONLY hope. And Christ is our only hope for Loran as well- through Christ we have hope that God has a bigger plan than this condition, that He can bring good from her life and her death, that He will use every moment of her existence to glorify Himself in ways beyond what we can imagine.

And through that hope we can know love, true and steadfast love. I am loved by God- not that I first loved Him, but that He loved me and demonstrated His love for me by sending His Son to die on a cross as payment for the debt that I owed. Though I was broken and deformed, His love has made me beautiful. Because of Him, Craig and I are able to pour out that love on our little Loran- not that she loved us first, but that we love her. That despite her physical state of brokenness and deformity, it is through our love for her that she is made beautiful in our eyes :)

I am so thankful for the way that God's grace is made evident through all situations in life... He blessed me that day with a deeper understanding of who I am and who He is and how to love my precious daughter. We ask that you continue to pray for us as we struggle daily through the waves of grief- that we would hold onto that hope and believe in His love... thank you for being His light in our life.

Ordered Steps?

"The heart of man plans his way,

but the LORD establishes his steps."

-Proverbs 16:9

I had a plan. Well, kind of. I wouldn't have called it that, I would have probably called it my "hopes" or my "desires"... but at the end of the day, whether even I realized it or not, it was THE plan. MY plan.

Step 1: Serve the Lord in China until He called me home-check.

Step 2: Wait for the Lord to bring me a godly, handsome, wonderful man and get married- check.

Step 3: Teach for a few years while enjoying the newlywed bliss and adjusting to life as a wife and a stepmom to two boys- check.

Step 4: Have a baby and "retire" to full time motherhood and homemaking- check?

And it seemed like everything was right on track... until a few weeks ago. After serving as an English teacher in China for a year, the Lord opened the door for me to return to the United States... Step 1. During my time in China, my courtship with a wonderful, godly, amazing man (Craig) had developed into something quite serious, and within three months of my return, we were married... Step 2. In ways that only He can do, He provided a job working for godly people that was more perfect than anything I could have even thought to pray for... Step 3. Life had fallen into place so beautifully, and I couldn't believe the blessings that God had allowed me to have. So, after a year of teaching and the ups and downs of adjusting to my new roles, we seemed to have found a balance and decided it was time to allow for Step 4- a baby. So we began praying and opening ourselves up to that possibility and were somewhat surprised when only one short month later we learned that we were expecting our first child together! I marveled at how things seemed to have come together. Could it be that it was all happening? Just like I had imagined?

And then came pregnancy. Somehow I have been fortunate to have a dream pregnancy. Though I expected the worst I found that I had no morning sickness, no nausea, no aversions, no aches and pains... just smooth sailing. I couldn't believe how fortunate I was. When people would ask how I was feeling, I would respond as truthfully as I knew how:

"I'm feeling great, everything is going so easily, but I'm not taking that for granted because I know it can change any day." And I truly meant that. But, Oh, how little I understood the depth of those words...

Until March 30. We went in for a routine check-up and towards the end (after an ultrasound) the midwife returned with a little packet of information and the news that it appeared that our baby had a cleft palate. It was a blow, I won't lie. All kinds of thoughts went through my mind, thoughts that now seem so superficial, so silly. I wondered what she would look like? how bad it would appear? would kids pick on her? would she be able to find a husband one day with a scar above her lip? I went home and struggled through the rest of the day, but with a few days of prayer and research, I had wrapped my head around it and was able to accept it. Now the countdown was on until our appointment with the specialist to determine how severe it was and what kind of surgeries we may need, etc.

Fast forward to April 20. I was a combination of anxious/excited/nervous to see our baby on the higher level ultrasound. I wanted so badly to know how severe her cleft was, secretly hoping it was minor, something a simple surgery could repair... I now look back and remember what seems like the longest day of my life. The appointment took forever, we waited for almost an hour and a half before even being called back. When we finally did go back, they began the ultrasound that also took another hour or so. When she first started, our kind technician did all of the normal scans, and after a few scans of her face, we quickly recognized that our baby girl had a complete cleft of the lip and palate.

"Okay, we can do this."

My mind went to planning and processing... as the technician continued her thorough inspection of our baby... a little too "thorough" around the heart.. the brain... the spine... but not the face.

"Doesn't she know why we're here? Our baby has a cleft.. shouldn't she be looking at her face? Why is she taking SO many pictures of her heart? her spine? her brain? Does she see something I can't? Is there more?"

All of these agonizing questions rolled around in my mind for the duration of the ultrasound, which seemed like an eternity. Finally, she put the tools away and said she would step out to find Dr. E. So there sat Craig and I...

"She sees something else doesn't she?"

"Yeah, definitely something with the spine.."

"What do you think she saw?"

"I have no idea.."

And there we sat for 15 minutes going back and forth with our questions. Still, I wasn't prepared. When the doctor walked in he greeted us, but it was very methodical and ominous. He said that though he was sure the cleft was obvious, "its clear your baby has some more serious issues."

"My baby? The one on the screen?"

He then proceeded to go through, in medical terms, each of our baby's vital organs and explain what was wrong them. Her heart has a hole, it's missing a major artery, her brain isn't connected, her liver has too much calcium, her kidneys are the wrong size... on and on and on. (On the summary sheet we received later, there was a neat little chart which showed that more of her parts were considered "abnormal" than "normal") Craig and I just sat there, holding hands, nodding...

Dr. E finished his explanation by concluding that our baby most likely had a genetic disorder, a chromosomal one. A Trisomy. (we would later learn Trisomy 13 to be exact...) "Do you know what that is?" he asked. I did. Unfortunately, I did. Craig said, "No", so the doctor proceeded to explain it to him, while my mind drifted back to a blog about a sweet woman and her daughter Nora Rose, who had been born with Trisomy 18. I recalled how I had followed her blog years before and ached for her, cried for her, prayed for her... and now, it seemed, I was to be her. The doctor explained how our daughter's condition was fatal, how she was "incompatible with life" (a phrase that I have now come to deplore because of how often I have to hear it in reference to my living baby girl...) The doctor offered us a few moments alone before sending us to have a blood test to be done to confirm his diagnosis. Up to this point, my movements, responses had been almost mechanical, nodding, agreeing, but the second he left, Craig pulled me into his arms and we just cried.

No words, no thoughts, just sorrow. Just brokenness. The loss of our child. Our hopes, our dreams, our plans. OUR plans.

"This ISN'T part of the plan."

As soon as I thought it, I realized that it wasn't true; it wasn't part of MY plan. But it had always been a part of HIS. God had known. He had known when He created her life. He wasn't taken by surprise, caught off guard. He formed her. Of course He had known all along. And He knows more still: He knows how long her life will be, how much we will love and miss her, how He will sustain us through each day and the days ahead, how He will give us faith that is not of ourselves, peace that is beyond understanding. He already knows, has already PLANNED the good that He will bring out of the brokenness and heartache we are now experiencing.  Most of all, He already KNOWS how He will be glorified and honored through it all.

THESE are the steps that HE ordered. I can't pretend we understand why, and honestly that's not a question that has even come into our minds. I know that I don't know, that I may never know why the Lord has given, and why the Lord is taking away. But I understand that He loves me, that He cares for me, that He promises to be faithful to me. And so we have peace, we have hope. Not in the circumstances we are in, not in the sickness of our daughter, not in our future loss of her. But in who God IS. Who He has ALWAYS been. In who we KNOW Him to BE.

And knowing Him means we can trust Him, hope in Him, rest in Him, to fulfill His glorious and beautiful purposes in and through our life, our loss, our sorrow and the precious life of our sweet Loran Ruth.