September 20.

So, today is the day. Eight months ago I dreamed about what this day would be like, what my baby would look like. Would it be a boy or girl? From the moment I saw the word "pregnant" on that Clear Blue Digital, I was making plans. What I hadn't planned on, was losing the baby. Now this day has arrived. It's been looming over me since the end of November, and now that it's here, I'm.. glad. What?? You read right. I'm so glad it's over. Today I'm not filled with joy as I look into my child's face for the first time, nor am I full of sorrow at the thought of what could have been. Instead, I woke up this morning and I felt thankful. It's over. I'm still alive. Life is good.

Instantly that verse from II Corinthians came to mind: "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'" I just felt COVERED with grace. And I was thankful. While turning in my Bible to find the verse I shared, I came across another that I had underlined: "So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day."

That's the perfect word for how I feel: renewed. On a day that is supposed to be clouded in sadness, I awoke with the most inner peace I have had in months. I can't help but shed a few tears at the thought of how good God has been to me through all of this--through all of the faithless days and the temper tantrums, through the emotionless prayer and empty praise. I know how undeserving I am of the love and grace He has blanketed me with today, and I am humbled. I am touched. I am in awe.

I wish there was a better way to say this, but I feel like I've been on "auto-pilot" for the past few months and I'm finally awake. I feel like I'm coming out of a tunnel and my eyes are adjusting to the light. I'm not living in fear of the future or wondering if my plans will amount to anything. Today, I don't care, and I wish I felt this way every day. I don't want to make plans. I just want to trust that whatever God has in store for me is good, and I want to enjoy my life. I feel like I can finally do that now.

I hope you can read this. On September 20, 2012 I was praying for something. I don't remember what it was or why I wanted it, but very distinctly I heard God say, "I'm doing a work in you." That was it. Six short words. I remember that it was so final, but had nothing at all to do with what I had been praying about. It was so distinct and I was so confused by it that I scribbled it in the back of my Bible. Today, I sit here as I write with a smirk on my face. I don't at all think this work is complete, but I think it makes a little more sense. Everything just "clicked" today, and I could pick myself up and walk on, knowing exactly what to do from here. It's a strange feeling--certainty. I don't get it often, but I'm feeling certain of who I am in Christ and what's important.

I feel like I'm bursting at the seems with the Holy Spirit and I can do nothing else but rejoice. Here's another page from my Bible:

What I've written there says, "As I open my heart and submit to all that God is allowing in my life, there is such a peace and rest that comes. When I submit, I must fully let go of all that I want and fully embrace all that He gives or I have not truly submitted. God will receive glory through this thorn. 1/14/13" Peace. Rest. Today, this is my heart's desire--to fully accept and submit to all that God is or is not allowing in my life. That's it. I've been praying for God to grant my heart's desire or to change it. As a woman, I don't think I will ever lose the desire to become a mother, but I do feel my heart changing. I have faith, a certainty that I didn't have before that tells me I will be a mother to a child on earth. One day. I don't know when, but this certainty also reminds me that when is not important.

You've probably guessed this about me, but just in case you didn't, I'm a journal keeper. Reflecting at the beginning or the end of every day in the presence of God is important to me. I have a journal for every year of my life starting when I was fifteen. As a tradition, my husband started buying me a new one every birthday. This particular journal wasn't meant to be used for my daily reflection. It was just a cheap notebook I bought to write letters to my baby. Slowly, over time it became my main journal. As I looked through it today, I read as it changed from "Dearest Baby," to nothing at all, to, finally, "Dear Father." How perfectly does this describe the last year of my life? I was so focused on conceiving a baby. Determined. Then I miscarried and I felt nothing at all. And finally, Christ was my focus once again.

Because of the victory I felt today, I decided to read over some of my past journal entries over the last couple of months and I want to share some passages with you. I'm hoping that something I share will inspire someone who's hurting or lost. I've said it before, but I know I won't always feel this way. I think it's important to document, so that when I forget I can come back and be reminded of what God has already done for me, what He has made me feel on this day, so that I can continue with dignity and strength.

These are the words I wrote on the day I found out I was pregnant:  "11/9/12: Father, you are so good! I can't express how grateful I am that You have trusted me with this miracle."
Immediately following the miscarriage, I wasn't sure how I felt about these words that I had scribbled out of pure elation. Now, I see that I didn't lose the baby because God didn't trust me with a life, but because He trusted me with something else that was equally as big.

This is from my first entry after the miscarriage: "12/18/12: It's so unbearable, Father. I can't take it. There is no escape from pregnant women. Lord, I pray for release from this pain. Peace. Calm. Contentment. I have moments when I feel so content, but others when the aching for my child is so deep I cannot stand it. Lord, why?"
I'm sharing this, because I know there is someone who is at that stage right now. Someone who is trying to fight how they really feel. Someone is doing their best to pretend that they are fine. Someone who is fighting tears every time they see a pregnant woman. Please, know that there is nothing wrong with you. Remember that you're not alone. There is hope.

There is no date written by this entry. In fact, I hadn't even remembered writing it, but when I turned to it, I was touched because even in my darkest moment God showed me that there was something to be thankful for: "Thank you, Father, for choosing me. I just want to weep to You, Lord. I am sorrowful and broken and I thank You for that. I thank You for what You are teaching me through all of this pain. You are so good. You are so good."

There is always something to be thankful for. Sometimes we have to search harder than others, but you'll always be able to find something for which to whisper, "Thank you, Father." Today, I am thankful for His grace and for the way He has carried me so completely, even on the days when I seemed so ungrateful. Today, I am thankful that I can live without fear of the future knowing that He is already there. Today, I can be still and know that He is God.

"Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know that I am.
Be still and know.
Be still.
Be."

Today I am thankful that I can just "be."