Ever wonder where God is in the hard stuff? As part of my 8-week series on motherhood, loss and redemption, today’s Faith Notes guest post comes from Redbud Writers’ Guild member Leslie Verner:
The park ranger peers up, pointing to the tops of the Lodgepole Pines standing like guards at the Rocky Mountain tree line. “See those pinecones at the top?”
I squint, attempting to be mentally present while my body warns me my infant son an hour away will be hungry soon.
This week’s guest post from Stephanie Reeves:
I remember with vivid clarity the day we learned I had miscarried our first child. After four years of infertility, the thought of losing this long-awaited baby was terrifying. When the loss was confirmed, it seemed my tears would never stop. That was two decades ago. I now have three healthy children, ages 14, 18 and 20. Although we lost two more babies in the midst, I feel very blessed. I was nearly 35 when I had my first child and almost 41 when I had my third. Yet when I realized that I was on the downside of menopause, I cried.
For months – OK, years – I watched the tightly wound rows of two braided throw rugs pull apart. One under the kitchen sink. One by the back door. Each time someone stepped on them, the tears grew longer. And each time I tossed the rugs in the washing machine, I silently swore I’d stitch the rows back together. But I kept putting it off. By now the tears were so large that my favorite rug, shaped like a heart, was unravelling from the inside out, threatening to come apart in two pieces. Finally I could stand it no longer.
I wasn’t going to read the news reports on the murders at the Bangladeshi café. I was scanning the paper last Sunday morning when I saw the headline on the siege at the Dhaka bakery and passed right over it, not wanting to see one more bloody, terrifying image of pure hate. But the horror was so overwhelming, I found myself reading anyway.
On a recent Saturday, I caught a TED Radio Hour talk on NPR with Diana Nyad, the first person to swim 111 miles non-stop from Cuba to Florida. For the next quarter-hour, I was spell-bound as Nyad shared her journey of perseverance, overcoming multiple failures, physical challenges, and pain so severe that jellyfish stings caused her body to go into convulsions.