I wasn't expecting it to be this hard.
I sat by the warm fire surrounded by family who would do anything for me...and, still, somehow, I felt so lonely.
I crawled in bed with tears in my eyes and woke with a heaviness I couldn't shake.
Food preparations began, smiles of thanks were offered, and the house was filled with noise of laughter and giggles and three healthy children I'm blessed to call my own.
But still my heart broke.
I feel torn between embracing gratitude for what I have...and being swallowed up by grief for the one taken too soon from my womb.
I've watched friends grieve the loss of a baby and cried with them, but I never knew how much my entire body would ache and break when the loss was my own.
Weary from a restless night, I crawled back in bed wanting to cry but feeling so numb.
Finally, I called out to him, the one who chose long ago to love me in sickness and health, in good times and bad.
Little did we know then what the cost of that choice would one day be.
But still, despite the cost and in the midst of the hard, he holds me without saying a word.
My own words come in a mess of tears and hurt I can't even explain.
The grief hurts so much I want to run and hide, but I know I can't.
I need people. I need community. I need love.
But, mostly, I just need Him to take away all my tears, all this pain, and all the fear.
I know He loves and that He is good always and in all ways, but sometimes the dark is so heavy and the pain runs so deep I wonder where He is.
Still he holds me, listening to words that don't make sense, because right now my world doesn't make sense.
And then he holds out his phone, his facebook newfeed open and a message from my uncle written there at just the right moment.
"...I'm so glad you still have Hope in your heart."
Another tear falls and he wipes it away as he says what I know in my head is true but stumble to believe in my heart.
"See. You are loved. So much."
Later, when the storm of tears subsides, I leave the dark of the back room and return to the light of family and love that has held me through storm after storm.
As I sit surrounded by such love, I see the tender looks, the unspoken concern, the hugs that linger, and the family who shows me just a glimpse of what love does.
Because their love is strong and steady, but His Love is greater.
I think about the messages still flooding my email and facebook from friends and family spread far and wide, of the mail and gifts so freely given, of the meals offered and the love that continues to pour into our hurts.
And for a moment, the grief doesn't feel so heavy and He doesn't feel so far away.
Because what Love does is grab hold of my heart in my darkest, most tender hurts and rub healing balms of comfort and grace and hope.
Love is the One who from heaven, the Word became flesh.
Love is the One born in a lowly manger of a dark, cold, and dirty stable.
Love is the One called Emmanuel, God with us, who grew up to be Messiah, the God who saves and sets us free.
And though it all still hurts, He is still Emmanuel and what Love does even in the storms continues to amaze me.
