Tag Archives: songs

Music Moves Me

Rosebud

Chris and I were blessed to receive concert tickets to help us celebrate our birthdays and anniversary. It was a wonderful evening. The headlining artists were awesome, but the band that has stuck with me most since then is a new one – an opening band called All Things New. We liked their music and decided to buy their first album. It’s good stuff.

One day, I had their CD playing as a background to my day just working about the house, when I was stopped in my tracks by their song, “Keep Me On My Knees.” It immediately brought me to tears, and I realized that if I had heard this song in December, I’d have declared it my anthem in light of losing Parsley.

Here I am in the desert plains
All I have is You
I am desperate and broken down
So I turn to You, I turn to You

Here I am in the desert plains
All I have is You
I am desperate and broken down
So I turn to You

Now I’m asking You, Father please
Just don’t take the weight from me
If this is what I need
To know You, all I need

And I’m begging You, Father please
Just don’t take this pain from me
If this is what I need
Then keep me on my knees

When I’m alone in my darkest night
I know you’re with me
Through the struggle I believe
You still are holy

I’m asking You, Father please
Just don’t take the weight from me
If this is what I need
To know You, all I need

And I’m begging You, Father please
Just don’t take this pain from me
If this is what I need
Then keep me on my knees

If this is what I need
Then keep me on my knees

Whatever for the cost
Whatever for the cost
Break my world apart
Whatever it takes
Whatever it takes
You will ask my heart
You will ask my heart

Now I’m asking You, Father please
Just don’t take the weight from me
If this is what I need
To know You, all I need

I’m begging You, Father please
Just don’t take this pain from me
If this is what I need
Then keep me on my knees

If this is what I need
Then keep me on my knees

I can’t explain it, but this song resonated so deeply with me. Three consecutive miscarriages had stripped away everything I thought I knew about what our family would look like. It challenged the family planning theology that Chris and I have chosen to live by. And yet… I had grown so close to the Lord in the midst of our trials, and I learned even more how to lean into His promises. And that’s a sweet spot to be.

We have to be willing to walk through whatever the Lord asks of us, for His purposes. And we have to trust that He will work it for good. He loves me. I can trust Him in the valley as much as on the mountaintop, and if He needs to keep me on my knees, broken, then that’s what I desire.

Even If the Healing Doesn’t Come

I wonder if the next chapter of our story starts this week. I have my first appointment with my new perinatologist in order to see if we can determine a common thread to our losses and, ultimately, see if there is anything more or different we need to do the next time I become pregnant.

I’m simply anticipating… anything really. After so many months of so many emotions, I would really like to think I’m ready for anything. Something might show up in our test results. The doctor’s expertise matched with our story might also be enough to set us on a new path. I really don’t know exactly what to expect, but I’m ready to know.

For so long after losing Basil, I was terrified of that third miscarriage. Two miscarriages might simply be a “fluke” (in the world’s mind – of course we know that God purposes each individual’s life – our sweet babies notwithstanding); but three miscarriages would be this “thing.” We didn’t want a “thing.” We didn’t want this to be a long journey, and yet here we are. And, after losing Parsley, I was more ready than ever to simply grab the bull by the horns and keep on keeping on.

Anticipation suggests hope, and I can’t deny that answers would go a long way to settle my heart. I’m a details kind of person, and it’s hard for me to not continually dig deeper. And still, I know the Holy Spirit has been preparing me for anything.

What I’m learning is this: Do I trust God? Period. Not “trust Him until I get answers and can put my faith in modern medicine.” Not “trust Him until we have a successful pregnancy and bring home our rainbow.” Not “trust Him because we know things will turn out in our favor.” Just simply trust Him. And, it’s a hard question to answer. I definitely think I’m closer than I was several months ago. He really has taught my selfish heart so much. And still, part of me struggles to give this up to Him day after day, miscarriage after miscarriage.

So, friends and blogosphere strangers, won’t you pray for us this week? Pray most of all that we continue to know God in greater ways and become more like Him, whatever the cost to our earthly selves. Pray for answers at my appointment should God will us to know them. Pray for confidence to proceed and a good relationship with my new doctor.

Pray that we’ll trust. And praise Him alongside us for His goodness. He is so, so good.

*****

In light of this anticipation, I can’t help but think of this great song by Kutless. I’ve sung it many a time, and I really identify with it.

Our “healing” may not come – I’ve had to force myself to think that through. We may have yet to endure countless trials, and yet we will still choose to trust Him.

You are God; you are good. Forever faithful one. Even if the healing doesn’t come.

Wrapped in Your Majesty

I’m so glad my husband is a good listener.

I heard this new song on the radio a dozen times before Chris emailed me the lyrics. After reading them and really listening to the song (“Kings and Queens” by Audio Adrenaline, by the way), it’s a favorite for sure. Lately, even Poppy requests to fall asleep listening to it on loop every night.

It’s so, so good.

“Boys become kings, girls will be queens, wrapped in your majesty when we love the least of these.”

The power of this lyric hits me every single time. Because of Christ in me, when I love the world’s least of these, I am recognizing their position in God’s kingdom. God sees the unloved, the lonely, the broken-hearted, and He loves them. He loves me. He loves you.

You and I are created in His image. Christ’s sacrificial love alone elevates us, gives us worth. Without Him, I am nothing. Literally.

*****

If you know anything at all about Audio Adrenaline, then their recording a song like this won’t surprise you. In 2004, Audio Adrenaline members founded an orphan village in Haiti named the Hands and Feet Project (here’s their awesome website where you can learn more).

There, children become kings and queens.

Check our their website to learn more, and pray about getting involved. They provide the opportunity for others to join in and sponsor the children they care for. They also accept missions teams. Seriously cool stuff.

*****

“If not us who will be like Jesus
To the least of these?”

So much good

I’m going to say something crazy.

I don’t want to be who I was before I lost three babies.

I suppose it is a great paradox of my life so far – to hate that our babies died but to rejoice in their eternal lives; to hurt so badly with grief but to weep with joy over the strengthening of my faith; to believe that I have been blessed through suffering.

“In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ, whom having not seen you love. Though now you do not see Him, yet believing, you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, receiving the end of your faith—the salvation of your souls.”
1 Peter 1:6-9

Church_with_rainbow

I can’t explain it, but I know some of you get it. Well, for all I know, all of you get it, and I’m the slow learner. It is so unfathomable that God can work so much good through so much bad.

Losing my babies and walking this path of repeated pregnancy loss is not something I wanted for my life. You know what I did want, though? I wanted great faith. I wanted God’s will for my life. I wanted my life to be so much richer than anything my tiny perspective could dream up. I promise you this: God is answering my prayers.

It hurts so bad, but I have never been more sure in my life: as this blog’s verse truthfully claims, He is working ALL things for good in my life, according to HIS purposes.

It’s not my place to guess why this has happened to us, or why your life’s struggle has happened to you. Certainly terrible things happen to us all – such is life on this marred earth. But, I will say this, no matter the why, God is near me. He is answering my prayers for my family through our struggle. He is providing joy and peace – oh what peace! – through the pain.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
Psalm 34:18

I want to encourage you today, whatever it is that you’re dealing with, that you don’t have to despair. Cry out to the Lord and know Him. He is near.

Finally, I leave you with a song about blessings. This world would tell you that blessings are only good things, but the Lord our God will always overcome evil with good:

Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops?
What if your healing comes through tears?
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near?

What if trials of this night, are Your mercies in disguise?

You’ll just have heaven before we do

I had a blast from the past experience a few days ago. I follow John Piper’s Desiring God page on Facebook, and featured that morning was a video called “Miscarriage and Jesus.” It was a short, five minute clip of Christy Nockels speaking about her back-to-back miscarriages more than 10 years ago.

Watch it here:

Christy Nockels – Jesus Is the Greatest Joy from Desiring God on Vimeo.

In the video, I hope you caught the title of the song she mentioned – “Glory Baby.”

That’s my blast from the past. When the song first came out, I remember listening to it on the Watermark CD I owned. In fact, all these years later, I can still sing right along with the music. I honestly don’t know that I connected that song with miscarriage or with the loss of a newborn when I was younger. I can imagine I thought it was a sad, pretty song but would be surprised if I thought much more deeply than that.

Life changes things.

Now I’ve added it to my repertoire… My playlist, so-to-speak. It might be hard to understand, or maybe it’s not, but sometimes I just want to remember, no matter if remembering brings pain or not.

“Glory Baby” is a wonderful way to remember.

Glory Baby, you slipped away before we could say, “Baby.”

This opening line makes my heart hurt and rejoice a the same time. It hits so close to home for me when remembering Pepper… And yet this lyric reaffirms our babies’ lives. They were real. They existed. They just slipped away too soon.

Baby let sweet Jesus hold you ’til Mom and Dad can hold you. You’ll just have heaven before we do.

I was preparing to write this post when the grief came anew. For the first time, I imagined our three heaven-born babies as children instead of babies. And, for the first time, I imagined them together.

Why I had never thought of our babies in heaven together, I don’t know.

“Hey Babe?” I asked Chris with tears streaming, “do you think our babies know that they’re siblings?”

He reassured me, and for the first time I saw our family divided. There are as many of us there in heaven as there are here on earth. The realization broke me in half the way I felt our family has been broken.

I wonder what sweet Jesus has named them. I can’t wait to meet our Glory Babies and hold them, too.

The Hurt & The Healer

To this day, when “The Hurt & The Healer” by MercyMe plays on the radio or over iTunes, my heart skips a beat. It was shortly after losing Basil that I was on a miscarriage support online forum when another woman posted the song.

I listened to it, and I sobbed.

I recognized then that I had heard the song before but never listened to it. There is so much in life that goes the same way for me: I am familiar with something – a song, a passage of Scripture, a testimony – but I don’t really listen until God ordains it so. He uses those moments to speak Truth to me. I’m so glad He does.

“The Hurt & The Healer” can apply to any struggle, pain, or hurt, I suppose. But, frankly, in my mind, it will always be a song about losing a baby.

The first verse packs a punch:

Why?
The question that is never far away
The healing doesn’t come from the explained
Jesus please don’t let this go in vain
You’re all I have
All that remains

How many times have I asked myself that question, Why? Especially in the early days when my perspective was so painfully short, I could not understand why. Even still, I am pretty sure I have very few answers, but I’m practicing my trust in His ways. Because the song is so right – the healing doesn’t come from the explained. No “good enough” answer could heal a broken heart. Logic doesn’t work in these situations, and pat answers can often drive the hurt deeper.

Taken the day after Basil's ultrasound

Taken the day after Basil’s ultrasound

Healing is simply supernatural. God steps in. When I am weak, He is strong.

So here I am
What’s left of me
Where glory meets my suffering

And then came the clencher… I don’t know if I cried right away that first time truly listening to the song, but I can guarantee you that tears were shed at the chorus. It’s still the part that provokes emotion to well up inside me.

I’m alive
Even though a part of me has died
You take my heart and breathe it back to life
I’ve fallen into Your arms open wide
When the hurt and the healer collide

The lyrics speak for themselves, really. When you lose a baby, a part of you very literally dies. I don’t really understand the theology of pain, but I am oh-so-grateful that He is there to fall into. He is the healer for my hurt.

And, if you’re a believer, you can have the utmost hope that the pain isn’t for naught. We serve a King who has already won the battle.

“O Death, where is your sting?
O Hades, where is your victory?”
1 Corinthians 15:55

MercyMe sings the bridge, and it certainly allows hope to swell within me, regardless of my breaking heart.

It’s the moment when humanity
Is overcome by majesty
When grace is ushered in for good
And all our scars are understood
When mercy takes its rightful place
And all these questions fade away
When out of the weakness we must bow
And hear You say “It’s over now”

Sometimes, it’s the only thing that keeps us moving through the hurt – taking a step at a time. Our Healer has already come, and if you know Him personally, then you know that our suffering is only for a season.

God's promises and His truths prevail

God’s promises and His truths prevail

The song ends with a reminder that I need nearly daily. I don’t want to live in the fear of another miscarriage, of more hurt. If I believe that children are a blessing, then I must not allow myself to give up on the sacred. I must continue to trust the Lord.

Jesus come and break my fear
Awake my heart and take my tears
Find Your glory even here

 

The Should’ve Been

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9

I’m loving this new song by Citizen Way.

Ahh. Can’t get enough of it.

There’s something about this song and the way it cleverly reminds me about God’s goodness toward me. I am – by no stretch of the imagination – living the life I deserve. I’m simply a sinner saved by God’s grace, praising Him that there are innumerable “should’ve beens” that God has saved me from.

It widens my perspective. Living my life is not about, well, me. It’s about Him and the story He is writing. I don’t deserve this life.

“Should’ve been me. Should’ve been us. Should’ve been there hanging on a cross.”

Getting caught up in the mundane and seeing the struggle is so easy for our sinful selves to do. We live in a world of entitlement and pride. “Should’ve Been Me” reminds me that every. single. good thing I have is of the Lord. And every single bad thing I endure just does not compare to the hell I have been saved from.

Perhaps the part that impacts me the most is this:

“All of this shame, all of these scars, should’ve been stains that were never washed…”

We all have skeletons – bad decisions, bad days, bad months. More bad than we know what to do with. Too many hurts. Too many broken promises. Too many bad decisions. We’re too broken to fix ourselves.

When we accept His grace, mercy, and forgiveness, the impossible happens. Our deepest hurts, He carries. Our darkest secrets, He forgives. Our shame, our scars, and our stains are washed clean – white as snow.

“I guess it just leaves me saying, ‘Thank God’ for the should’ve been.”