I'll Feel The Toil

Yesterday was another one of those days when words are not enough. One of those days where joy is devoid in that room of the labor and delivery unit. The baby is no longer alive. Now the parents must deliver the baby and say their goodbyes.

Looking back I can see how God prepared me to care for them. He had me in the Word the night before, reading in bed before I fell asleep earlier than usual. Then on the way to work I listened to some new music: "Slow Your Breath Down" by Future of Forestry. It was one of those songs that had me at the first few words, then solidified my attention as the music grew and swelled. I listened to it over and over. These lyrics were running through my head as I turned off my car and walked into the hospital:

Slow your breath down
Just take it slow
Find your heart now, oh
You can trust and love again...
You're not alone
You're now a part of Me
You feel the cure
I'll feel the toil that brought you

Unbeknownst to me, it was courage and strength heading into a tragic day. 12 hours flew by as I lost myself caring for the family. I couldn't eat. I didn't laugh. The tears shed weren't ones of joy. I dressed, photographed, and held the little body that just a day before was alive inside her mom. There isn't a way to explain loss like this to a couple. There is only reassurance that grieving in many forms is normal. And reassurance that I am walking it with them. With every hug I was willing divine strength and healing.

I gave all I had.

I'd love to say that I left it at work, but that would be a lie. Instead I sat on my couch dazed and couldn't make any decisions on what to eat, so I finally just went to bed. I didn't lose an unborn child, but I felt her emptiness every time I rolled over. I spent the morning in bed watching episode after episode of Parenthood, letting the tears (and sobs) flow freely.

I needed to be fully present for work again on Friday, so I spent the day in self-care mode. I read. I listened to music. I went for a drive. I spent hours in a coffee shop drinking my new guilty pleasure (an iced coffee drink called the "Shaker" flavored with hazelnut...I shamelessly downed two...one with a chicken salad sandwich, one with a slice of chocolate peanut butter layer cake). And I went for a walk on the prayer trail behind church. This was the best part. My feet on the dirt, the smell of autumn in the crisp air, the trees standing tall and powerful as the leaves rustled in the wind. As I walked I wanted nothing except to be in the presence of my God. I didn't have anything to say. He knew my pain, after all, He'd caught all my tears (Psalm 56:8). I just wanted to be with Him. Words like Healer and Redeemer and Restorer were pounding in my heart.

Then I looked up and saw the wooden cross on the path. I've never looked at the cross and felt such a rush of comfort and relief. It felt like home. I took a deep breath as I let every emotion wash into the outstretched arms of my Savior.

I didn't have to bear it, because He already did.

Thoughts of my patient swirled in my head as I listened to a few songs on my iPod.

"Let It Be" by Kinfolk 9:

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
There will be an answer
Let it be

 And Brooke Fraser's "Flags":

You who mourn will be comforted
You who hunger will hunger no more
Yes, the last shall be first, of this I am sure
You who weep now will laugh again
All you lonely be lonely no more
Yes, the last will be first, of this I am sure

And Big and Rich's "Holy Water":

She wants someone to call her angel
Someone to put the light back in her eyes
She's looking through the faces
And unfamiliar places
She needs someone to hear her when she cries
And she says take me away
then take me farther
Surround me now
And hold, hold, hold me like holy water

I was standing at the foot of the cross, laying the hurt at His feet.

The One with the answer.

The One who comforts.

The One who hears our cries and holds us.

He feels the toil that brings us to Him.

I couldn't help thinking how I want everyone to experience this Love. How can I walk through life and not shout it from the mountains? How could I be so selfish to keep Him to myself? He is more than enough. And Jesus died for all.

All.

I am so grateful. And I pray to God I live with a renewed passion and outpouring of love.

Isaiah 44:23, NLT
Sing, O heavens, for the Lord has done this wondrous thing. 
Shout for joy, O depths of the earth!
Break into song, O mountains and forests and every tree!
For the Lord has redeemed Jacob and is glorified in Israel.

I will not be silent.
I will not be quiet anymore.