peace

Last fall, I walked through the hard season of grieving Dayo, and it was all new and surprising and difficult. As I processed and opened up, I found comfort in knowing I wasn’t walking through this journey alone.  I asked hard questions and cried for weeks. I sensed people watched me, some day after day, others from a far distance, wondering when I would get back to being myself. And after a few months, in some ways, the old me returned. In other ways, I am forever changed and can never go back to who I was before I became a mother.

The months after I miscarried our first baby were both messy and beautiful. The rough edges in me were softened and I grew in faith and maturity.

As the snow melted and the geese returned, my heart was comforted by the truth that no season lasts forever. Spring always comes after winter.

And then the two lines on the pregnancy stick confirmed that God entrusted to me another life to carry. I was thankful and hesitantly happy. Little did I know, I would only carry that baby for a few more weeks.

The morning our baby met Jesus face to face, I experienced such peace and freedom knowing that this was completely out of my control, though never out of God’s control. As the shock wore off and I left work to grieve at home with my husband, I cursed the circumstance. What I thought was the finish line, the end of the grieving, was actually just the beginning of lap two.

I barely had time to get excited or dream about this new life growing inside of me, I hadn’t shared with anyone other than my husband. And all of a sudden, I was flung into a situation I didn’t want to deal with. Grieving our second baby been very different than the first. The questions and doubts are deeper and more intense than the first. The tears are fewer, the anger more subdued. The shame and embarrassment more prevalent. The healing quicker and deeper. The fear and jealousy present, but not overpowering. God’s nearness and comfort more evident. God’s wisdom and care have proven true and trustworthy, though I’ve wrestled with these more than any other attributes​ of God. And in learning that God knows what’s best and cares deeply for me, I’ve found peace.

This peace isn’t from a vacation or a bubble bath. This peace isn’t because of a lack of arguments or tears. This peace isn’t due to pleasant circumstances. No, He Himself is my peace. In the midst of grief, I have peace. I don’t have peace because I understand why, but because I trust God. He knows and He cares.

So we named our second baby “Amani” which is an African name meaning “peace”. We believe Amani is in perfect peace, and we too are experiencing God’s peace. In the troubles and in the uncertainty, we have peace. We know that God is taking good care of us, even now.

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