Ashes into Beauty

I was reminded tonight of a painful time in my life. A time that prompted my sister to come over one night with two songs for me to listen to. Several times in the following days/weeks, I laid on the floor listening, sometimes singing, sometimes weeping to the words of the songs.

One of the songs was, "At the Foot of the Cross," by Kathryn Scott, and whenever I hear it I stop what I am doing and listen to the words. The pain has lessened now, but I am reminded of that time when my prayer was that God would turn my pain into something beautiful.

It was April of 2007. I had just lost our second baby to miscarriage. So many feelings were coursing through me. Disappointment. Sadness. Hopelessness. Grief. Anger.

After I suspected that I had lost the baby, I went to the doctor who did some blood tests to see where my levels were. The doctor gave me a sliver of hope, so I sat on the couch that day, and God and I had some words together. I said, "God, if you will let this baby live, I will give you ALL the glory." And it was as if I heard God say to me, "And what if it doesn't live, Melissa? What then? Will you still give me the glory?" In that moment I was reminded that no matter what the situation, God still deserves the glory. Just a day or two later, I received the results, and I knew that even though it wasn't what I wanted, God still deserved all the glory. He would turn these ashes into beauty.

My anger came one day when I was shopping, and I saw what appeared to be a teenage mom, pushing a stroller while hanging out with several friends. I wondered why on earth someone so unprepared for motherhood could conceive, and carry a child while I seemingly could not. Perhaps I was jumping to conclusions, and perhaps I was being judgmental, but I doubt that I'm alone. If it's not seeing a teenage mom, it's the fact that when you want so badly to be pregnant, you seem to see pregnant women EVERYWHERE and it seems to rip that wound open every time. Ashes into beauty.

Its been surprising when my emotions have resurfaced. Months later, on the way to a wedding I cried for our lost babies. At a staff prayer time at church I could barely speak through my tears as I prayed for our pastor's daughter who had just had her second miscarriage. At a friend's house over a year later I struggled to hold it together because she and another friend there had babies the same age as our baby would have been. Ashes into beauty.

Every once in a while I wonder who those babies would have been if they had lived. But I also wonder who I would be had I not gone through the pain. I know that God used my pain to help me grow and to glorify Him and His ways no matter what. Ashes into beauty.