Back Home

     I have the day off today, so earlier this morning I was in the bathroom leisurely putting on my makeup and listening to iTunes. I hate getting ready more than anything, but on days like today I am at peace and calm. I like taking my time, and sipping on tea, and scratching Gatsby's belly with my toes as he lays at my feet. I was applying mascara of all things when Back Home by JJ Heller started to play.  I froze, the mascara wand still in my hand, and immediately began to cry. Now, I am pregnant, and could definitely use that as an excuse for my uncontrollable emotions, but that wasn't the cause this time.
     As JJ sang the first line of that beautiful song, my head and heart were transported back to a moment I don't think I will ever forget. It was 3 1/2 months ago, and Jake and I were in the car on our way to San Diego. A week earlier we had been told that I had miscarried the baby we were so excited to bring into the world. A week earlier I received a D&C. That horrible, horrible week had been filled with tears, anger, confusion, and emptiness. I felt so drained and pitiful, and was beyond ready to get away for the week and spend some quality time with my husband. It was a long trip, and neither of us felt much like talking, so the previous 2 hours of driving down I-5 had been spent listening to our favorites: Coldplay, Phil Wickham, and then JJ Heller. I had listened to her Painted Red album often, but as soon as track 4 began to play, I felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of my body. I continued to sit silently, listening to each word, with tears literally streaming down my face. My sunglasses were on and I tried so hard not to let Jake see my reaction. The week had been equally hard for both of us, and I didn't want him to have to deal with one more of my emotional break downs. Either I wasn't doing a good enough job, or he instinctively knew, but as soon as she started singing the chorus, he grabbed my hand. It was all too much. The sadness, the guitar, the beautiful words that spoke directly to my broken heart, the love of my husband, the love of my God.
     I gave in to the lump in my throat, and really cried, not worrying about what the woman in the next car thought of me. I finally accepted it all. Yes, this was a bad time in our lives. No, we don't know why it happened. Yes, I was perplexed. No, I was not in despair. Yes, I was struck down. No, I was not destroyed. I accepted the song's message. I would not get used to sadness. I would put my hope in what is true. My God did not leave me. He loved me. He was carrying me. He wanted me back home.
     As we continued to drive, I had no idea that in three days I would be sitting in an ER, 5 hours away from home, finding out that our precious baby had been protected by God and was alive with a heartbeat inside of my womb. I had absolutely no idea just how bright the sun would be shining on me.
     So this morning, with my growing belly pressed up against the bathroom counter, as I thoughtlessly applied my mascara, that beautiful song had a whole new meaning. God's promises are true. They are real, and meaningful, and amazingly fulfilling. Even if our trip to San Diego had not ended up the way it had, I would have been ok. I would have been healing, and maybe even pregnant again at this point. But that's not the plan God had for me or our precious daughter Brielle. I would have known no different, but now instead, I am fully aware of the overwhelming power of God and his promises. Whatever may come, and however the wind may blow, I know more than ever how faithful the Son is.