Too Close to Home

I haven't written much lately. It's been hard to find the time and my head hasn't been in the right space for writing lately. I felt like I was healing, that maybe I was getting better. 

And then July happened. 

July begins and ends with the anniversaries of the deaths of two friends. Two inspiring men of God, both gone too soon. But this July two more anniversaries were added, as friends lost their wife and mum and other friends lost their dad. Both deaths were unexpected and both left me reeling. Neither death seemed fair; they still don't. Two funerals within a week. I hope not to need to do that again. Ever. 

August hasn't been the best either, although for slightly more removed reasons. A friend messaged to say that a lady she knows lost twins recently. No one should lose a baby and no one should lose two. It's not fair and my heart breaks for her. 

An Australian actress revealed that her son was stillborn yesterday. As I read that news, so many emotions flooded my mind. I felt so sorry for her. The grief of stillbirth is unfathomable and she has to go through it in the public eye. I do hope she and her family get the privacy they have asked for. 

But since reading her heartbreaking news, I can't stop thinking about Ariella's stillbirth. I can't adequately describe the shock, heartbreak and devastation of those first days and what it feels like to walk out of the hospital without you baby in your arms. I have photos of my last moments with Ariella in the hospital, but I can't bring myself to look at them. The memory is hard enough, but as time has gone on it's as though the pain in that memory has dulled. When I look at those photos, I can't pretend the pain wasn't as bad as it actually was. I'm glad I have those photos, but I can't look at the photos of the worst moment of my life. It just hurts too much. 

I've been incredibly angry at God lately. I'm not exactly proud of that, but I have to be honest. There have been too many deaths too close to home, and in the words of a friend, Heaven seems too populated with those we love. It's like I've been pounding my fists on his chest and screaming WHY? But all of my pounding and screaming hasn't pushed God away. He's bigger than that. And instead of holding me at arms length as I scream, He's wrapped his arms around me when I collapse from exhaustion and whispered gently to me that Ariella's life has been fruitful and that it's ok to be mad. 

I have to believe that.

I just have to.

Because if I don't...I don't know what's left. Believing that gives me a sure hope that I will see my baby girl again. I'll see Geoff, Steve, Heather and Don again too. I don't normally write things like this, as I don't like seeming pushy, but all these sudden deaths lately has really reminded me that nothing in life is certain. Except Jesus. I am certain that because of Him I will go to Heaven and see my loved ones again. If you don't have that certainty, will you think about it? If you've ever thought I am strong, this is why. I'm not strong, but my God is. And He can be your God too.