Only Just the Beginning

I have had such a week.  My journey with miscarriage began a week ago, and the experience spanned the length of 7 days.  For 7 days I grappled with the reality that I had lost my baby, beginning with small symptoms which lead to a trip to the ER Tuesday evening (the trip I wrote about in my last post) which lead to a visit at my OB's office Wednesday which then lead to another trip to the ER Thursday evening which lead to an outpatient office at the hospital early Friday morning.

Sparing you the details, I will say only that I was not spared the details of a miscarriage.  I was drug through the depths of this miry pit of loss, my journey's intensity only increasing as the week crept along, and I was asked to drink from a cup I would not wish upon anyone.  I didn't want to drink.  I desperately begged the Lord to take the cup from me, imploring Him to spare me from the depth of pain. But I did drink, because Christ first drank for me. 

I share that small glimpse into my journey this week because its important for you to understand a bit of my experience before I share what I hope to convey in the rest of this post.  I know its ugly and uncomfortable and a journey that leaves one wishing I'd go back to writing about Lucky Charms and laundry and beach days with my sweet son.  And I will.  But this week my world froze, and the God of the Universe drew near, even as He allowed me to be slung through the miry pit of miscarriage and loss and, my friends, I would be crazy not to share with you the secrets He shared with me this week.  Also, He told me I had to, so I don't have much of an option of going back to laundry and beach days at this point.

This post is forever long, but it's exactly what I am suppose to share. I've prayed through the entirety of the writing below, asking God to inspect each word and cut out anything that shouldn't be there.  I told Him it was too long and that no one would read through it to the end, but He told me to clam up and just do what He has said to do: Write it.  Write all of it and do not to leave anything out, or add anything more than what I saw and experienced because I saw and experienced exactly what He wanted me to for exactly the reason He wanted me to.  Write it.  And so, I have written.


In my last post I shared with you the truth that this is not the end of my baby's story.  Now I am here to share with you what the Lord told me about the beginning of my baby's story.

When I realized my baby's heart had stopped beating, I never doubted for a second where my baby was.  The Hubs and I are passionate followers of Christ.  We slip and fall and mess up more often than not, but the bottom line is, our hearts are sealed with Jesus.  We have surrendered our lives to Him, asked Him to forgive us our sins and all the ways we slip and fall and mess up in this life, and we received the gift of grace He offers each one of us.  He has made us new, and since we became parents we have prayed He would pursue our children's hearts in the same way He pursued our own.  We desperately want our children to know and follow hard after Jesus, and we pray for their spiritual journey and our role in that every day. 

So when I saw my baby's heartbeat was still on the ultra sound screen, I knew immediately where my baby was.  Though she hadn't stepped a foot on this earth, I knew she was with Jesus in Heaven.  I might have been tempted to wonder whether or not God scoops up even the smallest of babies and brings them safely to Him, but the truth is, I knew my Jesus better than that.  The Jesus I know gave up His very life so that we might be with Him, and there was no doubt in my mind that a love that strong could ever, ever reject the precious life of a tiny, unborn baby.

What is interesting is that while I knew my baby was in Heaven, I didn't know what that looked like.  When you're a momma, your life revolves around the days of your little ones.  I ached to know what my littlest one's days looked like.  Jesus, I know you have her, but will you hold her, Lord?  Will you rock her and sing to her and play with her?  Will you tickle her roly poly legs and delight in her belly laugh?  My heart longed to know that my baby would be cared for in the ways a mother intends to care for her child.

This is when the story gets for real.  Up until now, I've been giving you necessary background information so you know where I was at when Heaven visited my bedroom.  I'm going to just dive in now and describe to you what I saw. First, remember that I am writing because God made it clear to me He wanted me to write.  Second, I have to explain that what I'm about to share wasn't a warm and fuzzy feel-good attempt of my own to lick my wounds.  I wasn't trying to picture what my baby was doing in Heaven or who he was with or what it looked like.  I was simply praying and asking the Lord if He would hold my sweet one now that I cannot.

And this was his answer:

I was lying in my bedroom, staring at the ceiling Wednesday afternoon, while Newbie snuggled next to me, sleeping peacefully in the crook of my arm.  I had intended to nap with him, but my heart was too heavy with grief and longing, my arms too achy from losing my baby to fall asleep.  And so, I stared at the ceiling and prayed, thanking God that He had made clear to me that this was not the end of my baby's story, but begging Him to please please hold my baby, because now that I could not, it was tearing me up inside.

There is no way to describe what happened next other than to say that the Holy Spirit fell on me and God gave me a vision.  It was not something I was drawing up in my mind, because it was vivid and real, and I didn't know what was happening next, and the vision spanned the length of an hour, and I never have a continuous thought that lasts that long. I also kept checking myself to make sure I wasn't day dreaming because I was fully awake and aware of what was going on, but I soon realized what I saw was not my own. I say these things not to convince myself, but to help you understand that the picture I'm about to paint for you with my words was not by my own hand, it was painted by the very hand of God.

The first thing I saw was light.  A brilliant, blazing light that could only be described as glorious.  The light was so astoundingly beautiful- so far more radiant than any light we ever see.  The light was the surface of the floor and the sky and the walls. It filled the entirety of my vision. The light was white- purer and brighter than white, but we don't have the words- however, it was not clouds like we see in some caricatures of Heaven. The light was just everywhere, shining in a radiance that we simply do not have the words to describe.  Heaven was shining with the glory of the Lord, and everything was consumed by its beautiful light.  In the far off distance was the outline of a golden city.  I didn't see any details- just a shiny gold silhouette of  a city in the distance, because the light out shown even the beautiful gold of the city.

The next thing I saw was the profile of Jesus, standing near me, but I realized I was not a part of this vision- I was a witness to the event taking place before me.  It was as if I was standing at the Gates of Heaven looking in on a beautiful moment.  Jesus stood in front of me, to my right side, and I could only see His profile, but in front of Him was my baby.  My baby looked very similar to the way my son looked when he was about 11 months old.  My baby was clothed in a white cloth wrapped around like a diaper, and she stood near Jesus- Jesus was always near- but my baby was facing a woman.  Behind that woman, to the left of my vision, stood a crowd of adults.  I couldn't make out their details at all, but I knew they were there, a short distance behind the woman and watching what was taking place.  On the other side of my baby, to his back and to the right of my sight, was a crowd of babies.  Several of them were the same size as my baby, but others were older.  They stood watching as well, but there was a ripple of movement among them, and I got the feeling they were excited and antsy for my baby to turn around.

As I looked on, I recognized the woman as my great-grandmother.  Nunna, we called her.  She was Mutte's mother, but she looked much different than I ever knew her to look outside of old family pictures.  She looked young and vibrant, and just like the pictures I had seen of her when my mom was a little girl, which I later decided must be the height of a mother's beauty- when her children are grown and begin having their own children, and she is still young and healthy and full of a beautiful life and energy. 

My great grandmother bent over, and smiling, tickled my daughter, then scooped her up and snuggled her close.  She put her on her hip and nuzzled her little head and rocked her back and forth.  Then the Spirit spoke to me for the first time in words saying, Look- do you see?  Your baby is not only here with me.  She is here with others and is going to be mothered well until you come.  She's also going to be the best mannered of your children because look who I've put in charge of mothering her! At this I literally laughed out loud because my great grandmother was the picture of southern hospitality while she was here.  She was an exemplary house wife, and my family, to this day, still talks about her manners and the proper way she went about doing things.  I laughed because the Lord was certainly right- Newbie has no chance of being as well-mannered with me in charge of passing along proper etiquette- I tend to focus on other things, but I was so warmed by the thought that my great grandmother would be teaching my baby and loving her as a mother would since I could not.

Next, Nunna set her down upon the surface of the light, and she turned to the other babies.  I didn't recognize all the babies that were there, but I recognized a few, and I knew immediately that all the babies were connected to my family in some way, and I instantly knew the same about the crowd of adults standing a small distance behind my great-grandmother.  The first baby my child turned to was a precious baby who belonged to a dear friend of mine in Texas.  My friend lost her baby only a few weeks ago, and you can read her story here.  Her baby was the first my baby turned to, and her baby was so excited that my baby was there and that she was new to Heaven too.  Her baby was thrilled to have a friend who was also a new arrival, and her baby was bubbling with excitement about having someone to share Heaven with.  The Spirit then told me, They know that their mommas are best friends on Earth.  They know that you were friends when you were little, and they know that you are still friends now, and they are so excited to be here together at the same time.  There is a special bond between these two because they are both so new and their mommas so close.

Both babies continued to almost dance with joy, and then out of the back of the crowd, another baby came prancing.  I knew it was the precious baby girl of a sweet friend of mine who lost her baby through a miscarriage a few years ago.  This baby was a bit older than the other two, but smiling radiantly and gracefully coming forward to greet my little one.  My baby's interaction with this crowd of children was all so beautifully child-like.  The children weren't standing still, they were all antsy and anxious for their turn to greet my baby and the Spirit explained, The newer babies are excited to have a friend to share this new experience with, and the older ones who have been here longer are excited to show the others around-to share what they know about this beautiful place.

It struck me then how very real Heaven is.  It's all-encompassing of all the goodness of God and of the earth He created, like antsy children anxious to prance and play.  It also struck me how very content my baby was with my great grandmother, and how very joyful she was with the other children.  It was very clear to me that each had a different role in that place, and each was fulfilling that role as it pertained to my child.  It was beautiful to see.

Next, a woman came forward from the crowd.  I recognized her immediately as a sweet mother from my church who died from cancer last year.  I didn't know her well, but her two girls were in the Sunday school class I taught, and I when I learned of her passing, I felt such a heavy heart for her husband and her children.  I ached for the loss of the girls' mother.  Though we were distantly connected through our church, she was here now, and she looked like she did in some of the pictures I saw of her on her CarePages before she became so sick.  She was young and beautiful and radiant, and she smiled at my daughter. The Spirit said to me, She is telling her about her momma and daddy.  She's explaining that they went to the same church together and that her parents were teachers there and loved children. She's explaining that you are kind and that you both must love her very, very much.  And because she knows what it is like to be separated for a time from her children, she's explaining that you miss her deeply and are so excited come and be with her there.

Two things hit me: First, I was excited to know that someone was telling our child about us and expressing directly to her what we cannot- that we miss her so, so much and can't wait to see her.  Second, I was so touched by the relationship this woman had with my baby in Heaven, even though I had not known her well myself.  It became clear to me that the body of believers-the church you attend- is very significant.  There was a connection there simply because we were a part of the same church, and it warmed my heart to see God's love exemplified in this way- that this woman would have a connection with myself and my family, even though we had never been formally introduced.  Her story had touched me, and I was connected to her through the teaching of her girls on Sunday and through a heart burdened to grieve and pray for her family from a distance after she had gone.  And here she was now, bringing words of encouragement to my baby and ministering to my family, similar to the way I had prayed God would encourage her family and minister to them in their time of need.  It was a beautiful exchange, and I was so excited to see her there with my baby.

At that moment, the vision changed.  I'm excited to tell you about the next part because it was equally as beautiful and full of hope, and the next part left me in stitches, crying tears of joy and begging the Lord to please, please save some of that fun for me and the Hubs when we get there.  But I'm saving that portion of the vision for another post because it was very different from this one.

As the vision shifted and then ended, the people and surrounding faded and the light was all that was left and then the light slowly faded out of my view. My pillow was literally soaked in the silent tears I had cried while the Lord revealed this beautiful secret to me.  As I lie in bed staring at the ceiling after the vision had passed the Spirit said, Do you see?  I have shown you the beginning of your baby's story.  What you have seen is not all there is of Heaven- there is the thrown room of God and the songs of angels and other things you have yet to see and hear- but this was the beginning of your baby's story- a small snippet of Heaven I wanted you to see.  As I told you, when I took your baby so suddenly from your womb, Beloved, it was not the end.  She is with me and she is warm and safe and loved and cared for- and what I've shown you is only the beginning of her beautiful story.  And remember, Beloved, she will be here when you come because her story is a part of my story, and my story never ends.

I wept then.  I wept because I knew He had given me a special gift.  I knew not every mother who loses a baby through miscarriage gets in the incredible treasure of seeing the beginning of their baby's story.  I knew it was no coincidence that I had, because it was then that the Lord told me I must share the vision He gave me.  And He warned me that some who hear the story might think I'm crazy.  He warned me that some would conclude that I had drawn up a beautiful day dream to lick my wounds in the midst of a physically and emotionally traumatic experience.  But then He said I still had to share.  He said those things don't matter because there are people that He needs to me to write this for.  And that is why I am writing today. 

After the vision passed and God made it clear I need to write about it, I registered that I had not recognized every face in the crowd, but I knew they were connected to me in some way. Later in the week, I found God revealing to me who some of the others were, not all, but some, and demanding that I share my vision with anyone who He makes clear had someone they were connected to standing in the crowd around my baby. To be honest, I'm not sure why He wants me to do this, (asking me to acknowledge the specific people in the crowd He showed me) and I'm convinced some who I share with will think I'm absolutely nuts (!!!) but after all He's done for me, I have no choice but to do exactly what He asks.

I'm writing this morning because God told me to, and it is the first morning I have been able to muster the energy to sit down and write out the words.  It would be selfish of me to keep this to myself, though I certainly feel vulnerable entrusting the beautiful secret of my baby's beginning with you because it is so very, very special to me. But God has made it undeniably clear to me that He wants me to write this because He has a very specific purpose and very specific people whom He wants to know about my story and His role in it and the vision He gave me. If you are touched at all by this story, you are one of the ones He intended to hear.

I'm praying, dear friends, that if you are one He wanted me to share with that you are encouraged by the vision He gave me and the truth it reinforced: Jesus' love runs wide and high and long and deep, and those who love Him in return are a part of His story, and when they lose a sweet treasure, that treasure is a part of Jesus' story, and His story never ends.

Thank you for reading, most especially if you bared with me through to the very end.  Wishing you all a blessed weekend and looking forward to sharing the rest the experience I had this past week. 

xoxo,

Brittany