“Taste and see that the Lord is good” Psalm 34:8a
It’s August in Missouri which means many things - soaring heat indices, weeds outgrowing grass, back to school rush at Target, the return of 20K + college students (traffic!), and for our family it means that once again we are in countdown mode for a new baby. I have been pregnant during August for 4 of the past 6 years.
Today is August 29 which marks the 5th anniversary of the stillbirth of our twins Phin and Bram. It’s hard to believe that it’s already been five years since we said hello and goodbye to them. So much has happened. We now have Josie and Will (3.5 yrs and 23 months respectively) to chase after, and as mentioned above we are eagerly awaiting the arrival of baby #3 (or baby #5 depending on how you count it…). We are in a sweet spot. It’s not perfect - there are battles of the will and temper tantrums (mostly thrown by the children), bad habits to break, sibling fights to referee, endless “why” questions from the elder child that are now being echoed by her little brother. There’s fatigue and boredom at times. But in many ways it is so, so sweet.
This summer brought the discovery of Josie’s darling curls (the only benefit of Missouri humidity), and even a few curls developing on baby Will, whose nickname needs adapting (and quick) as he grows increasingly into a little boy, shedding the baby plumpness and gaining his own strong sense of desire while lacking the verbal acuity to express himself clearly most times (terrible two’s anyone?). Josie is learning and growing at a rate that reminds me to stop and savor the sweet moments. To celebrate her strength as she runs up a hill alongside the double stroller and dog that I haul out every morning on our neighborhood walks, to look at her face and drink in the cuteness that is clearly a mercy from God as sometimes parenting her is just SO frustrating. It’s good that He makes them cute, amen? To cheer her on as she learns how to sound out words and how to use either hand to craft letters somewhat resembling the alphabet. And Will is a joy too. He’s started doing this classic little boy thing where he sprawls flat on the ground with a car in an outstretched arm, one cheek pressed on the floor and watches as he moves it back and forth, sometimes making the noises that go along with motoring. He’s a snuggler and loves books (reading them, hearing them, standing on them, pulling them apart). He says “thank you” in the sweetest voice and has now for several months. And just recently he and I have developed a thing where we look at each other and proclaim loudly “I (point to yourself) LOVE (arms crossed over the chest) YOU (pointing excitedly at the other party)!” He loves to shout that back and forth, especially the YOU part. There is such sweetness hidden in the corners of this phase of family life.
Taste and see that the Lord is good.
Five years ago I believed the sentiment of Psalm 34:8 was true, but I sure didn’t feel it that day. Or for many days to come. Grief takes the color out of life and sucks the wind out of your sails. On the morning of August 28, Allyn and I had been on a trajectory of excitement and hope, on the brink of launching into parenthood with twin boys who would likely arrive pretty early but all things were pointing to their continued thriving in utero for at least a little longer. By midday the 28th that trajectory was erased and we were set on a completely different path. Our normally scheduled ultrasound at the specialist revealed no heartbeats. I think mine stopped for awhile that morning too.
The Sunday after Phin and Bram’s birthday Allyn and I went to church, having resolved that since our boys were worshiping that morning we ought to be too. In those 90 minutes we tasted the goodness of the Lord. Music that directed our hearts to the sovereignty and strength of God. Brothers and sisters who moved out of their comfort zones and their usual seats to lay hands on our shoulders, friends who had no words but came to share a hug and tears, a special moment of prayer in the service, a connection made with another momma who had lost a baby boy just two years before who is now one of my dearest friends. The days and weeks that followed that service were hard, but that Sunday morning has truly become an “ebenezer” moment in my life where I saw in a powerful way the provision of a God who was and is working all things for my good.
Earlier this month I was sitting in the same sanctuary listening to our pastor preach about prayer. He shared a concept from the writings of C.S. Lewis who once said “When we lose one blessing, another is often most unexpectedly given in its place.” We were encouraged not to hold so tightly to our plans and hopes that we fail to recognize that what God is doing is bigger, grander, sometimes more difficult or confusing in the moment, but the blessing is coming. I thought of our journey over the past five years and of friends who have walked and are walking similar paths. My heart aches for them and I truly hate the thought that anyone continues to have to journey the path of loss, but I trust that for those whose faith is in Christ there will be a day when we stand before Him and marvel at the unexpected blessings that came from that path. At the end of that service this month I went up to the stage with the rest of the worship team and started playing “Lord I need you” by Chris Tomlin. That song will always have a special place in my heart as it was one we sang that Sunday five years ago after we lost the boys. As I was playing and singing and trying not to get choked up I glanced to my right as the sanctuary door swung open and saw my husband stride in from the nursery wing with Josie in one arm and Will in the other.
Taste and see that the Lord is good.
We walk a path we didn’t expect to walk. Parents to two kids in heaven, 2 almost 3 kids here. Seasoned by grief. Never quite the same. Josie and Will are sweet, sweet gifts but not replacements for our loss. As we mark this anniversary with our annual family picture at their memorial tree and birthday cake and singing, our prayer is that God would continue to use this path we walk to strengthen our faith and to bless others. That our kids that we have the privilege to raise would understand the goodness of God in hard places, would recognize the frailty and brokenness of this world and long with their whole hearts for their heavenly home. That they would be kind and compassionate to those who are hurting because their lives are touched by loss. That they too would taste and see that the Lord is good.