A dear friend of mine, here in our little town, is experiencing a miscarriage, and my heart is aching for her.
An internet friend is going through the same storm. Many other women have also had such losses recently.
The experiences are recalling for me the many aches of my own five miscarriages, and although I firmly and truly believe that Christ was with me through them all ~~ that He led me, sculpted me, formed me and changed me, that He healed me in ineffable ways through the short lives and deaths of my children ~~ I also firmly and truly believe this:
We must grieve.
And I know that my friends have a long and difficult path of grieving ahead of them. I want to be able to do it for them. I want to take it away, so they don't have to wade through it. I want to carry their crosses, save them from their pain.
But, no. It doesn't work that way, does it? I cannot change or short-circuit anyone else's sculpting and forming. I cannot decide the pace or the face of their healing. It's not in my capacity, and it's certainly not my place. I am not at the center of these storms. I can merely stand by and offer help -- help to pick up a few pieces, pat a few things back into place, offer food in the time of rebuilding.
It seems feeble and weak, doesn't seem like enough. And yet, it's all I can do. It is what I am able to do. And, it gives me something to do.
Someone Else has the job of truly taking on their burdens.
Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.Christ is the only one who will bring them to true peace, acceptance and understanding. Into His arms they will fall and cry, as many times as they need to, until one day when they will see His face in the face of their loss.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for your selves.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.
~~ Matthew 11:28-30
And in the meantime, I'll be there ... with prayers, a plate of cookies, and tears of my own.