Struggles

I read an article on the Still Standing website today that was quite good; it was called Letting Death be Your Teacher. It's somewhat confronting to read my own thoughts, but written by someone else in a much more eloquent way than I would be able to:

I know death has changed me when prayer is war. How do you love and praise Someone whom you feel so deeply betrayed you? Or, perhaps worse, seems to have forgotten about you?

I know death has changed me when life seems like the exception, and death seems like the rule.

I know death has changed me when I choose to fight with God in prayer. I give Him my pain. My betrayal. My anger. And I place my bruised, bleeding heart into His perfect hands. He doesn't heal my hurt. But He does always hold it for me.

The author lists a number of things, but these three are what got me. Sometimes I worry that I come across as not having any issues with the fact that God didn't heal Ariella. That because I say "his love is deeper still" or "God is still good" that somehow I'm this perfect Christian, even though I've been through the worst thing a parent could.

It's not true.

I struggle. A lot. More than I care to admit sometimes. I've never once doubted that God is still God, or that He is still good. He is. And that's why I have problems. If He wasn't good, I could not have expected Him (or even asked Him) to re-start Ariella's heart. But He is good. Therefore, I (subconsciously) expect Him to do what I say is good. 

And that's why I have to fight with God in prayer, just like the quote above says. Because I am in pain. I do feel betrayed. And I do feel angry. My heart is bruised, and sometimes I worry that it will never stop bleeding. But the reason I can do that, the reason I can come to Him, is because He is still good. He is bringing good out of this situation. And I'm thankful for that. For example,  the makers of Return To Zero - the movie I blogged about here - were hoping to reach 50,000 pledges before the meeting with Hollywood. They reached 56,000+!! Ariella's death is helping to break the silence surrounding pregnancy loss. I'm grateful for that. I'm grateful for the friends who have told me how their life has changed since January 30, because of Ariella's story. I'm grateful for the people I have connected with in ways that I probably wouldn't have otherwise. Sarah. Heather. Brittany. Annika. Marsha. To name just a few. Precious friendships God has brought into my life (or deepened) because of Ariella. 

Don't get me wrong, when it all boils down, I'd rather have my daughter in my arms still. I don't have that, but I do have God, who, despite my pain, anger and betrayal, is still good.