The Father of Lights

I haven't written about my baby for a couple weeks.  We've been processing our loss and getting back into our routine and trying to figure out what it looks like to be parents to a baby in Heaven and to the little one under our roof. We ache for the one far from us, and we snuggle the one near us. We smile for the one we have in Heaven, and we smile for the one we have here, grateful we can pray for both, hope for one, and tickle the other.

God has walked with us, filling us with joy and hope, but we still miss that little baby bump.  We miss the hope of meeting a tiny someone in January.  We ache to hold our second little one.  The ache hurts.  Bad.  But the hope of holding our sweet baby in January is replaced by the hope of holding our sweet baby when we go Home. And let me tell you something: hope is beautiful, and hope, my friends, is something we will always have.

For a while I debated writing about this portion of our story because its so close to my heart.  I also debated sharing because this portion of our story belongs to the Hubs- it was something he experienced, whereas the rest of the story I've shared has been about what I experienced. But several friends have told me the full story, the story with both my story and my husband's combined, really brings God's hand and work in my baby's story full circle.  And there's nothing I desire more than the Lord's work in this experience to flourish, that He might be glorified. I'm going to share more of our story today because I want you to have the opportunity to see the beautiful things that God has done.  And, my goodness, has He done beautiful things.

What I share below is another incredible portion of blessing God offered to my husband and I when we lost our baby.  In previous posts, I've shared my part of the story- the enormous slices of blessing the Lord served up in the form of visions.  But this time, it's something my husband experienced- something that might be hard to imagine or wrap one's mind around, but when something like what I'm about to describe happens to you, you don't question it.  You don't even believe it because you just know. It's not a question of whether or not you believe it really happened.  You know it did. You know that it happened, and you don't care whether or not others believe it because you know it.

You know

the depth of it,

the beauty of it,

the glory in it,

and the wonder of it.

I know this to be true because I had a similar experience; I've been there.  You question not the possibility or means by which such things happen because there is nothing to question; you know it happened, and that is what matters.  There is nothing to do but turn your heart to Heaven, smile, and be filled with joy and praise for the One who does all good things. Because you held one of those good things- you experienced it, and it was so, so good.

It's up to others to decide whether they will hold that thing and turn their hearts and smile and accept the blessing and encouragement that comes when God allows us the opportunity to see Himself at work.  It matters not to you because you know, and you are grateful and your heart is full to the point of overflowing.

When the Hubs told me what he experienced, I held it, cherished it, tucked it into my being and turned to Heaven and smiled.  My heart was filled with joy and praise, and I was oh, so very blessed by his story.

I hope you will hold this and smile and be blessed too. =)

The week of my miscarriage, God gave me a glorious vision of my baby in Heaven, and when my husband got home that evening, I shared with him what God had shown me.  I spent a lot of time describing the incredible light- the glorious light of God- radiating in every bit of the vision.  The Hubs stopped me at one point and asked with a hint of intensity, "There was a light? A brilliant light?" I could tell he was processing a thought of his own, but I blazed forward in my story because I was so excited to tell him what I had seen.

When our conversation ended, the Hubs stopped and looked at me as silent tears slipped down his cheeks.  He said, "I'm so happy God showed that to you.  And I have to tell you about something He showed me too."

My eyes grew wide as I sat across from him on the bed, and my heart raced with anticipation.  Could it be?  Could it be that God would show us even more of our baby's story?

The Hubs continued, "I know you think we lost our baby on the fourth of July, but we didn't.  I know we didn't."  My heart skipped a beat as I listened to him.  We went to the doctor the evening after the fourth of July, when I was suppose to have been turning the corner on 10 weeks pregnant.  Our baby was measuring 9 weeks in the ultra sound, so I had assumed since my symptoms started July third and carried into the fourth, that we had lost our baby some time around the fourth or fourth of July weekend, because I still would have been 9 weeks at that time. 

As I looked at him, sure he was about to reveal something he knew about the timing of our baby's journey to Heaven, he said again, "I know we didn't lose our baby on the fourth of July.  I know we didn't.  It was before then.  Do you remember that morning last week when I woke up and told you I had a crazy dream?"

I nodded that I remembered, reeling back to the morning the Sunday before when he had told me as soon as he rolled out of bed that he had a strange dream but couldn't find the words to describe it. I thought it odd that he couldn't come up with the words to tell me what the dream was about, but I shrugged it off and went on with my morning.  As I looked across the bed into my husband's eyes, I knew he had the words now, and I was on the edge of my seat waiting to hear what happened to him.

"I didn't make the connection until you described the light you saw in Heaven- the brilliant, radiating light.  Brittany, I saw that same kind of light- I saw that light in the early hours of the morning the Sunday before last.  I had was sleeping, and usually I can remember my dreams vividly.  I was dreaming, but suddenly my dream went to complete black. I was lying on my right side, you were to my left, and through my closed eyes, I noticed a light coming from your side of the bed.  I turned my head to the left, and the more I turned towards you, the brighter the light became.  My eyes were still closed, but I wasn't dreaming anymore- I hadn't been since everything in my dream went black.  I turned my head toward your side of the bed, and the light grew brighter.  It was too bright to see anything but it's radiance.  Even with my eyes shut, I saw that it was everywhere, exactly the kind of light you described when you were talking about the light in Heaven- glorious and brilliant, bright and pure.

From behind my eyelids, I watched it hang there, over you, consuming you and your side of the room in complete brilliance, and then it just disappeared.  Once it had gone, I opened my eyes and there you were, still sleeping.  I looked out the window, and it was becoming light outside.  I knew it was dawn, but it was still pretty dark outside, so I closed my eyes again and went back to sleep.  Then when we woke up, I told you I had a strange dream but couldn't explain it.

I know what the light was now.  I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was the light of angels taking our baby to Heaven.  It was the same light you described, and I know.  I know it was the light of Heaven coming down to take our little one up to Him."

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I absorbed everything he had shared with me.  I smiled through the blur and reached over to hug him.  We prayed together because you know what?  There's simply nothing else in the world to do but pray and praise the Lord when your husband sits across from you and tells you he saw the light of angels taking your baby to Heaven. That's what we were made to do: praise the Lord, and when you come face to face with the work of His hands, when the Creator of the universe reaches down and hands you a brilliant and glorious gift, you praise Him. And so, we prayed and praised and prayed some more.  We held the gift God had given us.  We held it, and savored it, turned our hearts to Heaven and smiled with hope and joy overflowing.

"Every good and perfect gift is from above,  
coming down from the Father of lights."
-James 1:17

I was so overwhelmed by the gift God had given us in letting the Hubs witness a piece of our baby's resurrection, I felt my heart could burst.  I smiled because God is so good and because He is mighty to save.  I smiled because I have the incredible treasure of knowing when my baby was resurrected from this life and taken into the hands of Jesus.  I smiled because not only did Jesus show me my baby's beginning in Heaven, but He also showed the Hubs a glimpse of our baby's trip to that beautiful place.

And the greatest piece I took away?  My baby was taken care of.  My baby was wrapped up in the light of Heaven the very moment God commanded it to be so. My baby's story was written in God's book before it came to be (Psalm 139), and He had a plan before the doctors even knew something was amiss.

The Father of lights?

He cares.

For me.

For you.

For everyone.

He has a plan.  You are a part of it.

I took my story and asked Him to make it His own.

Now my story is a part of His, and His story is a part of mine.  Friends, I hope yours is too.

Because the Father of lights?

His story never ends.

There is more to my family's story.  More to smile about. More I have to share with you about our baby.  And I will...very soon. =)

For now, I hope you have a fabulous weekend, and that you have the opportunity to spend some time smiling with me in gratitude for the good and perfect gifts coming down to us from the Father of lights today.

xoxo,

Brittany

One of my good and perfect gifts...

 (image created by http://www.trudyholtzphotography.com)