The Choice I Had To Make

"You have a choice to make: either accept that God does things for your good and reap the blessings He offers in your life, or don't accept that and become embittered and experience the consequences from Him that will naturally follow."

I heard these words this past weekend in the midst of fear of the unknown.  I was all by myself, 800 or so miles from my dear husband and sons, and I was going through what I felt must be the beginning of a miscarriage.  I was scared.  I was sad.  But God was speaking to me.  I had a choice to make. 

Throughout the whole weekend, there was a resounding theme of faithfulness and perseverance.  I was exhorted repeatedly to live the story that God has intended for me and to allow Him to work through me radically.  I was also reminded several times that culture (internet, facebook, even my fellow Christians) will give me permission to do all manner of things.  They will give me permission to be bitter, sarcastic, complacent, to ignore my kids while bowing before the idol of technology, to complain.  I was also reminded to do what God tells me to do, not what I feel like.  I had a choice to make.

I am choosing to accept that everything God does is for my good.  His power is perfected in my weakness, in my human frailty.  I am fragile.  But my God is good.  He is a wild God, and at the same time, He is kind, gentle, merciful.  His yoke is easy, and His burden is light. 

I returned home and immediately went to our hospital, where we received news that our baby was no longer.  And I had a choice to make.

I choose to believe that the God of beauty; the Creator of cinnamon, coffee, and centipedes; the Author of my story; the God who threw the stars up in the sky and laughs while they dance---that same God tenderly loves me.  That very same God is the God who knit me together, bit by bit, and knew the length of my days before they began.  He is the God that knit the baby that was in my womb together, bit by bit, and knew the length of my baby's days before the baby even came into being.  He knew my baby's story, just as He authors mine.

What does this choice mean?  Does it mean I'm denying myself a grieving process, just shoving any sadness aside?  No. Emphatically, no.  We still are sad.  But we have peace.  It means that I will not allow myself to become shrouded in sadness to the point that truth is invisible or clouded.  I will not allow my heart to become hardened.  Because I have made my choice.