milestones and fleeting moments

i am exhausted. i feel like i haven't slept in ages. but i am exhausted because of a feeding frenzy my sweet little josiah has been on. i am exhausted because "God heals" is alive and well and growing.at this time last year, on 18 june, i was exhausted because we had just buried precious levi's ashes five months after his little heart stopped beating. oh how the Lord has brought us full circle during this past year, a year of anniversaries and milestones. "Jesus, in your name we rise. the glory is yours."*

i'm sure that some of you consider the almost daily photos i/we post of josiah to be excessive, and maybe they are, but for me, each new day i get to spend with josiah is a reminder of every moment i missed with levi, a reminder that life is beautiful and short and full of fleeting moments. and i don't want to miss a thing. there's that, and there's the fact that so very many of you have said that you feel that, in some way, josiah is partly your baby, too. you've walked this hard journey with us, interceding before the throne of God and being his hands, feet, and minds when our own weren't working, so in some ways, josiah is your kid, too! :)

every day, every. single. day, i thank Jesus for his healing, for new life, for this life, for this precious little boy, and for the opportunity to be his mamma and to have been levi's mamma.

on more days than not i see levi's face in josiah's and wonder how he would have been as a boy. and i am constantly asked by well-meaning people if he is my first child. that answer is never easy and is normally followed by "my first on earth. i have one son named levi in heaven."

'cause in case you didn't know, this mamma thing is hard. it's messy. it's beautiful and more rewarding than anything i've ever done. and i am blessed, oh so very blessed. Jesus has been good to me, being levi and josiah's mamma is perhaps the greatest honour the Lord has bestowed upon me. and looking back over this past year, i can, with great confidence, say that God. is. good. 

*from my friend carl cartee's song "glory is yours," our anthem during josiah's delivery ️

this day.

I was already eight days overdue, so this day, one year ago, started like those before it had, but by the time it ended, my world had been turned upside down, and you were gone.

This past year has looked absolutely nothing like I thought it would. Many more hours and days of it were spent in tears than any other year of my life. But many, many more days were spent overwhelmed by the sheer presence of Christ and the beauty of his hands and feet at work in and through his body.

You were greatly anticipated, longed for, and loved years before you were born. I dreamt dreams and had visions and hopes of all you would do and accomplish and be. And on that day, this day, one year ago, those dreams died.

But with the death of those dreams, with your ashes, arose beauty, hope, love, and even joy, like I had never before witnessed. Your pappa and I were instantly enveloped in the largest blanket of love and prayer, prayer that carried us through the darkest days and love that constantly reminded us of God’s great love for us, even in death. One of my favourite verses in the Bible says that “weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning” (Psalm 30.5b). And it did. Even in the darkness, the Lord came to us with whispers of hope, whispers of healing, whispers of love. Josiah. God heals.

And just days short of your first birthday, your precious little brother arrived, full of spunk, warmth, and hilarious facial expressions, bringing with him love, joy, and the healing that God had promised when you left us far too soon.

The testimony of God’s great grace, love, healing, and hope has spread around the world and continues to do so as we hear of countless strangers, friends and loved ones who have carried us in prayer and prayed for the health and life of your little brother, Josiah Gideon. Because of you, people have learned that God IS in the storm, that his love IS never-ending and full of healing power, and that he ALWAYS keeps his promises. Joy DOES come in the morning.

This is your legacy, Levi Gideon, a legacy that your little brother has already begun to carry in your memory and honour. We promise that he will grow up knowing all about his big brother, and he, like you, will be a warrior (meaning of Gideon) for the Kingdom of God, fighting on behalf of God’s people, that they may know of his life and his love. 

a letter to my sweet josiah

you're already so much like your big brother. in fact, i mistakenly say his name on occasion when talking to you. i'm pretty sure, though, that you don't mind and that you're honoured to be mistaken for him at times <3. 

yesterday, i showed a friend levi's picture when she asked what he looked like, and as i described his viking red hair, the spitting image of his pappa's beard, i began to wonder about you and if your hair will be the same colour. i sure hope so. 

you began with just a whisper from the Lord. "josiah." "God heals." could it be? could God send us another longed-for son? did we dare hope? did we dare trust and believe that the Lord could and would heal us? there was no other choice. we longed for healing, for hope, for you, and we still do. 

showing my friend levi's photo made me think about photos we've taken thus far of your journey. your pappa and i were so diligent about taking belly pics before levi's arrival, and we've honestly attemped to be while you're in utero, but we haven't been so good about doing so. almost everytime your pappa's asked to take a belly pic, i'm either in PJs or in need of a shower or both...and those aren't the kind of pics i've wanted to take to remember you during this time. and then suddenly, a few days and even weeks have gone by before we remember that we still haven't taken a picture...and then the timing is still bad. so here we are, smack dab in the middle of week 30, and we've taken TWO belly pics. TWO. i don't even know that we've taken so many photos out with friends other than the amazing photo shoot we had with your aunt stephanie back in september, and it breaks my heart...so much so that i cried a good while over it last night. i can't get those weeks and missed belly shots back. i don't want to be the kind of mamma who makes silly excuses like i have and ends up missing out on making beautiful memories. 

and i certainly don't ever want to miss out on making any memories with you. at the same time, i don't want to live life with regrets and what i could and should have done. your sweet pappa reminded me of that last night when we prayed over you and over these wretched thoughts and regrets that come up, i don't want to compare our lives to others'. your story, your big brother's story, they're ours and no one else's. we may have not taken as many photos thus far as we'd have liked to, but the legacy your big brother levi has left for you to follow in is a beautiful one. there aren't many babies who make it in the national Christian swedish newspaper before birth, but you did! 

and, i don't sing to you as much as i think about doing or wish i did, either, but you're killing my lung capacity, big boy! i know, though, that you know my voice and your pappa's, that you've been singing and dancing along with us in worship at church and at home, and that you will surely be gifted in music, too! oh how we can't wait to sing and dance, play instruments, and praise the Lord with you!!

...and we will before long! in just two short months, it'll be time for you to make your grand entry into the world, and we can't wait! there are so many people, so very, very many people who have prayed for your journey thus far, prayed blessings and shared prophesies of how you, our sweet child, will be a blessing to many. "God heals." yes, indeed he does. he's amazing in his grace, his plan, his work in our lives, and we are so thankful that you, little brother to precious levi, who has already stolen our hearts, are part of God's great plan.

we love you so.

your mamma & pappa

in swedish news

many of you have perhaps already seen the facebook link i posted this morning regarding the newspaper article that has been written about us in today's edition of sweden's largest Christian newspaper, "Dagen" ("Today"). well, as the article is in swedish and many of you don't read or speak the language, i won't make you google translate the whole thing. here comes a translation :).

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Photo caption: Both Jordana and Andreas bear the name of the child they lost on necklaces they each wear around their necks. Now Jordana is pregnant again. Levi’s little brother is due in January. He will be called Josiah, which means ”God heals.” Photo: Lina Mattebo

”Their Son Died Before He Was Born”

Levi would have been ten months old now, but Andreas and Jordana Surell’s first child died before he was born. Levi’s death is the worst thing that has happened to the couple, but it has also taught them that God’s goodness remains through it all. And soon Levi will have a little brother.

Andreas talked to Levi every evening. With his hand on Jordana’s stomach, he’d say, ”Hey Levi! Pappa here. Are you gonna kick for me?” And Levi answered every time with a hard kick, every night except 16 January. It was 10 days past Levi’s due date; Andreas had just finished his last exam in school, and Jordana had met up with two friends.

But not until they’d gone to bed for the night did Jordana realise that she hadn’t felt Levi kick for awhile. So when Andreas’ voice didn’t give any response, she knew at once that it was too late. Shocked whispers and panicked screams echoed through the apartment, ”Honey, he’s gone…How could this happen? Is this for real?”

At the hospital, what Jordana already knew was confirmed: little Levi’s heart had stopped beating. But in her head and heart there was a song from God, ”It’s not over. It’s not finished. It’s not ending. It’s only the beginning. When God is in it, all things are new.”

When they were finally alone in the hospital room after receiving confirmation that no one should have to hear, Jordana turned to Andreas and said, ”I know it sounds crazy, but God is telling me ’It’s not over.’ I don’t know if that means that God is going to heal Levi or if it just means that this story isn’t over, but I believe that we have to worship God even though it feels horrible.” So in that cold, white hospital room with no movement in her big tummy, with tears pouring down their faces, they listened to Israel Houghton’s worship song and praised God.

Levi’s hair was red, the same shade as his pappa’s beard. He had his mamma’s nose and his pappa’s lips. But his parents don’t know what his eyes looked like. When Levi was born on 18 January, they were closed, all life gone. The doctors don’t know why Levi died, as both he and Jordana were totally healthy.

In spite of the seemingly meaningless, Jordana and Andreas share of God’s presence and goodness in the midst of their endless grief.

”The whole delivery was truly covered in God’s grace. In the middle of it all, I felt God whisper the Swedish worship song ’The Lord Is My Strength and Song’ in my ear.  I’m not even a big fan of that song, but I sang out that truth throughout my contractions,” said Jordana.

Andreas continues, ”It had been a long time since I felt God’s presence as strongly as I did during our time in hospital and afterward. It’s hard to explain…Of course, something horrible happened, but at the same time, we experienced so much grace and goodness.”

There are visible signs of Levi throughout the flat six floors up in Stockholm. On the wall in the room that should have been his hangs a painting with his full name and birth information in happy, gold letters. Both Andreas and Jordana have silver necklaces engraved with Levi’s name that they wear. And above the sofa hang two large black and white photographs from the photo session they had just a few weeks before Levi was born.

In spite of these signs, several people who have visited them haven’t asked how they’re doing since Levi’s death. Even though Andreas and Jordana have been mostly positively overwhelmed with friends’ and the Church’s care—through encouraging texts and Facebook mesages, that the freezer filled quickly with food, economic help, company, and prayers—others’ silence since Levi’s death has been rather difficult.

With tears streaming down her face, Jordana says, ”I wish people would ask if I can tell them a bit about Levi. Ask why we chose just the photos we did for the wall hangings, what he looked like, why I wear his name on my necklace. There are a thousand things to say! Now it’s like he never existed.”

Andreas adds, ”I believe that many people don’t dare ask questions because they’re afraid we’ll be sad. And of course we might be, but to ask us gives us a choice. Then we can say, ’We don’t feel like talking now, but we’d love to another time.”

When they were planning the music for Levi’s memorial service, they discovered that several well-known worship leaders—Brenton Brown, Matt Redman, Darlene Zschech, and Steven Curtis Chapman—had all lost children and then gone on to write songs that have touched many. Andreas and Jordana hope that their experiences can help others as well. Although they’ve cried and been angry, Levi’s death has not meant a great crisis of faith for them. Many have asked, ”Why you guys?” and in the darkest moments, Jordana has even screamed that question, but often the answer has been, ”Why not us?”

”It’s a part of the western world’s culture, and especially Sweden’s culture, to believe that the world, that God owes us something. We’re used to being handed everything by the system. ’Here you go. Nothing’s going to happen to you.’ But we walk with God when life is going along normally as well as in the midst of crises. As Christians, we don’t live in a protected bubble.”

For Andreas and Jordana, the choice to try to have another baby was an obvious one.

”We finally came to a point where we felt that regardless of how long we wait, we’ll still have the same questions, the same doubts and fears. But we’re ready to be a family,” says Andreas.

Levi’s little brother is expected in January. He will be called Josiah.

Jordana shares, ”One month after Levi died, I sat in church, not listening at all to the sermon. Then I suddenly felt that God whispered Josiah to me. When I looked it up, I learned that the name means ’God heals.’”

Andreas felt him kick for the first time a few weeks ago.

”I was afraid that it would be more painful than joyful since Andreas loved to talk to Levi and feel him kick in response, but he started crying tears of joy. It’s truly a gift from God that we can experience such peace,” says Jordana.

Footnote: If you have gone through a situation similar to Andreas and Jordana’s or want to read Levi’s whole story, feel free to check out  www.levigideonslegacy.com.

time to celebrate!

so much has happened since july. suppe and i have been able to share and testify to God's goodness, healing, and greatness on several occasions now, and as much as we hope to bless others in the process, our hearts are always left overflowing!

it feels like my belly is also overflowing at this point, and that's a good thing. i'm now 27 weeks pregnant with baby j, and God is filling my heart with joy with each new kick and movement, and i am so thankful. in order to celebrate our joy, my precious sister offered to do a photo shoot with us when we were home in north carolina at the end of august/beginning of september, and we were thrilled that she asked! as happy as i am to be able to document this new season in our lives, i was so pleased with how well the photos of levi's little elephant hercules holding baby j's ultrasound pic turned out.

as much as my heart still hurts when i think about the fact that levi should have been with us celebrating his little brother's upcoming birth, he was. his sweet memory is with us daily, and his tiny footprints on our hearts have changed us forever...for the better.

thank you to each of you who has chosen to take this journey that is levi's legacy with us through prayer, support, and all kinds of encouragement. you have enriched our lives in ways you may never know about on this side of heaven, and we are grateful and so very, very thankful.

if you missed seeing the whole celebratory photo session on facebook, you can check it out now. and if you're interested in finding out more about my sister stephanie's work (or hiring her if you're in the hickory, nc area!!), you can check out her page here.

love and peace and grace and joy from above,

jordana & suppe

p.s. an article has just been written about levi's legacy in sweden's biggest Christian newspaper, "Dagen," and it's coming out tomorrow!!! so stay tuned for that link and translation (as it's written in swedish) :).

the six-month milestone

[i will be sharing my testimony tonight at new life's summer church, and the following is what the Lord placed on my heart to share. may it bless you as much as writing out and claiming these truths has blessed me.]

i can hardly believe it. six months have {already} passed since our little levi went straight from a happy life in the womb and into the arms of Jesus. thankfully, he knew no pain, but the pain that we as his parents and family have endured has been the most gut-wrenching of my entire life. some days are easier than others, and, thankfully, most days are good days now, but the sorrow and emptiness can return without warning, bringing with them a flood of emotions.

just recently, i blogged about feeling like i've been thrown into a marathon unwillingly, and i hate running. but i've watched as so many friends have become pregnant and been blessed with precious babies over the past year or so, and although i have wanted to be a mom for as long as i can remember, my heart has ached in a new, fresh way since i was robbed of being levi's mom here on this earth. and although i am thrilled for all my friends, my heart has ached as i have longed to be able to reach those milestones with levi that my friends have with their little ones, rejoicing, as they should, over sitting up, eating solid foods, smiling, laughing, and just being the precious babies each of those children are.

but last week, as i thought about the six-month milestone that we wouldn't be celebrating with levi on this side of heaven, i felt the Lord press upon my heart to celebrate a different milestone, to celebrate what HE has done in our lives over the past half-year, for the Lord's hand and presence have been seen and felt as never before, and he is worthy of all glory and honour in our lives.

1) God is with us through every. single. trial. we. face. i remember just as strongly today as i did on that horrible night at the hospital as we received confirmation that levi's heart had stopped beating, how God so very gently whispered to me, "it's not over." and reminded me of the song by israel houghton with the same name with which i had encouraged other friends over the past year. i climbed off the examination table and sat down with suppe and said, "i know that this is going to sound crazy, but the Lord just whispered and said that it's not over, and we need to listen to that song. i don't know if that means that levi is going to miraculously come to life again or if God just wants to reassure us that he's in this journey with us and that levi's story isn't over. so we listened and wept and prayed with an urgency we'd never known. and we worshipped. we worshipped our God who is good and faithful and loving even in death. and although i knew this truth before, it was indelibly imprinted on my heart in this moment. and i am so thankful. God didn't have to whisper those words, that reminder to me, but he met me in the pit and blessed me.

2) tragedies make us more aware of, dependent on, and sensitive to God. i'll never forget suppe crawling into the hospital bed beside me after levi's cold little body had been removed from our room and our family had left us to get some sleep. as we held one another tightly and wept softly, he whispered through the tears that he hadn't felt so close to God in a very long time, if ever. and i looked at him and smiled and nodded. and it's true. starting with adam and eve and going through the whole biblical story, we see how the people of God walked away from him time and again because they thought they could do life on their own and that they didn't need God. and as easy as it is for us to shake our heads and judge the israelites in their sinfulness, pride, and utter stupidity, we are, in fact, just like them. from early childhood, we want to do things on our own and prove ourselves. but the truth is that we can't. we are nothing without God, but with him, through Jesus' blood spilled out for us on the Cross, we are the righteousness of God (2 Cor 5.21). and sadly, we often need hiccups, upsets, or even tragedies to be reminded that we can't do life alone; we need Jesus. and lying in that hospital bed, suppe and i both felt that we needed Jesus just to breathe, just to make it through one more second of one more day. and in his grace, the Lord is always there, thrilled that we realise our need for him, longing for us to be sensitive to his presence and work in our lives, and hoping that we will not, as peace and happiness eventually return, leave him by the wayside and forget our depravity and helplessness apart from him.

3) we don't have to know why. of course i asked God 1,000 questions when we learned that levi's precious heart had suddenly stopped beating. why him? why us? why now? i still don’t know why, and i may not until i get to heaven. as humans, we long for and feel that we need answers when things don't turn out the way we want them to or when life comes crashing down around us. and we long to know that what we're going through is going to be worth the pain in the end. but the truth is that God owes us nothing. he doesn't owe us answers or blessings or even life. EVERYTHING we receive from him is a gift, and only in his great grace may we one day receive a glimpse into the why, a glimpse into his perspective. every glimpse he chooses to give us is a blessing.  

4) there is no substitute for learning the Word of God and writing it on your heart. on saturday morning just two weeks after levi's death, i awoke with a longing for death and heaven like i have never known. as suppe was still sleeping, i got up and went into levi's old room that my mom had wisely suggested we turn into a prayer room, laid down and wept and cried out to God to take my life, that i could no longer bear the pain. i laid there for over an hour, weeping uncontrollably. but during that time, i experienced something that i have never before experienced in my walk with God: simultaneously as i cried out to die, cried out for God to end the pain, i heard countless Bible verses that i have learned over the years on repeat in my head. worship songs proclaiming the truth of God and the steadfastness of his character played on repeat like a broken record. and in a brief moment of clarity, i was overwhelmed by the truth that the Lord will indeed NEVER leave us or forsake us, not when we scream at him or pound our fists on the ground. we are his children, and he loves us with a love so deep that not even parents who love their children can ever fully grasp. so as every emotion in me cried out to die, the Lord, as only he can do, whispered his truths, his Word, in my heart and head. and i have never been more thankful for the passion God has given me to learn and memorise his Word, that as hebrews 4.12 reminds us, "the Word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart." in that moment of darkness, the Word of God did just what it promises, as it pierced through the division of my soul and spirit and discerned that the true intention of my heart was not to die but to somehow meet God through the tragedy and bring him glory. 

5) knowing God and walking with him through times of peace enable us to walk with him through the fire. i didn't really think about this truth until my good friend jill brought it up to me when we talked just a few weeks after levi died. she reminded me that i have walked with God in times of peace, when life has gone "as it should." and in those times of daily life, i have learned his character. i have learned that the Word of God is very true and that God never ever reneges on his promises. he is good even when it doesn't feel like it to us. he never leaves my side even when i feel alone. he hurts when i hurt. he loves me with an everlasting love. and he. is. faithful. always. when we learn who God is on the good, easy days of life, we learn to trust him when sky falls and the earth quakes around us. and when it seems like he has abandoned or forgotten us, we can lay aside our feelings and speak out what we, deep down, know to be true. we can walk in faith knowing that HE. is. faithful. and he is so very good.

6) family has nothing to do with blood and everything to do with Jesus. just like many of you, i moved to sweden without any family or friends. and although i am incredibly thankful that my mom and step-dad were able to fly over from the states to be with us for two weeks when levi died, being away from my whole family was difficult. but what we found to be truly incredible was the way our friends, especially our friends in new life and in my church back home, united with us in support, love, and oh so much prayer. from the second we found out that levi had gone to heaven and sent an sms to kjell, john and a few others, the messages of prayer, love, support, and encouragement started pouring in...and they didn't stop for months. never in my life have we felt so covered in and carried by the intercession and love of the family of God. in what has been, without a doubt, the darkest time of our lives, the light of God has shown through people like you, his hands, his feet...through gifts of time, food, hugs, prayers, and listening ears. the body of Christ is beautiful, and one of the incredible things about Jesus is that when we ask him to take over our lives as Lord and Saviour, we not only gain a friend and King in him and receive forgiveness of our sins forever, we gain membership and belonging into the most amazing family in the world. thank you to each of you for being part of that family and for tangibly loving us with Christ's love.

and in closing, i read the following verses as part of our church's read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year plan this morning, and my heart was blessed. each and every word is true. <3

Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way. If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You’ll get his help, and won’t be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought. People who “worry their prayers” are like wind-whipped waves. Don’t think you’re going to get anything from the Master that way, adrift at sea, keeping all your options open...Anyone who meets a testing challenge head-on and manages to stick it out is mighty fortunate. For such persons loyally in love with God, the reward is life and more life. James 1:2-8, 12, The Message

the marathon

**please do not write comments about the news in the first paragraph on public news feeds (i.e. facebook) until andreas and i have gone out with the news ourselves!!! i just figured that if you're one my faithful readers, then you're welcome to know! thank you for respecting our wishes!**

it's not public news, at least not facebook news yet, but i'm 13 weeks pregnant, a full trimester on friday, and i'm not even excited about it. don't get me wrong. i've waited what seems like a lifetime to become a mom, but after losing levi, getting excited seems scary. hoping seems scary. 

back in february, as i was sitting in a worship service in new life, God whispered a name to me, a name that will, most likely become the name of our next child. not sure of the meaning and slightly obsessed with the meaning of the name, as i believe our names say a lot about who we are, i looked up the meaning, and it filled me with the promise of hope. i so need hope right now. i so need to believe, i have to believe, that God wants to bless us with a living, breathing child, and that he is healing us.

at the same time, however, the voice of reality--or is it satan? they sound so familiar at times--attempts to drown out God's gentle whispers of hope with screams that God's already allowed my dreams to be crushed without explanation, so of course he'll do it again. but i know. deep within, buried under the hurt and heartbreak, the tears and the sorrow, i know. i know that the Lord is working for my good. i know that he loves me. i know that he longs to be, that he is my hope. and i hold on for one more day.

but my reoccurring problem at the moment is that i've felt for awhile now that i'm in some sort of race, a marathon of sorts, and yesterday morning, the feeling just overwhelmed me to the point of tears. a close friend just gave birth to her fourth child the other morning. another to her second a few months ago, and yet another her sixth. and then there's me with no baby. we were supposed to be in this together, my friends and i (they have been very supportive during this time, but i'm still struggling).

when i checked my facebook feed yesterday morning (sometimes a very uplifting moment, but today, quite the opposite effect was produced), i was bombarded with beautiful pics of said friend and family and baby, of news that other university friends are expecting their fourth child in september, and THEN, that two more university friends (not close ones, but still) are due the same week in january as i am. for one of them, it's her second child, and for the other, her third.

and feeling blindsided by all that information, i was struck with two main thoughts:

1) i can imagine that none of these friends are worried now nor have been worried about losing their babies. none of them are still so overwhelmed with grief (and maybe a bit of fear, too) that they don't know how to celebrate and anticipate their upcoming births. none. of. them. i'm in the middle of a bloody baby boom, and i don't have one single friend--thank God!-- who truly understands what i'm going through or who's even feared going through it. sometimes i feel so alone in my grief.

2) i'm in the middle of a wretched marathon. i. hate. running. i even hate the thought of running. i always have, and i certainly don't expect that opinion to change anytime soon, not even in light of swedish author martina haag's popular book Heja, heja!, that should inspire all women everywhere to put on their best sports bras and snazziest new running shoes and, well, run. i won't. I. HATE. RUNNING. and, yet, here i am in the midst of the worst imaginable marathon EVER, a marathon in which i never chose to run, compete, or even be. you see, i feel like all these families that i know and honestly love and have nothing in the world against--please hear that--are living out my dream, MY BLOODY DREAM, {my dream} of having a big family, {my dream} of being a mom, and they're all doing it with such grace and beauty and LIFE! i see Jesus working in and through their lives and blessing them with babies, and my heart aches for that which God placed there so very long ago.

to add salt to the wound, most of these women who are beautiful inside and out pop out babies and then return to their gorgeous, pre-baby weights like magic. but not me. weight and i have never been friends. whether or not i have the "crutch" of grief "on my side," the fact is that according to my BMI, which i realize doesn't take into account a lot of things, i am clinically obese. my medical journal from levi's delivery said so. i've not been able to breastfeed to help lose weight after that difficult pregnancy, and i have grieved. i have grieved well, and i have been exhausted for months. i haven't lost weight like i planned or thought i would, the weight of shame, the weight i carry that no one understands, the weight that is unable to hold up levi and explain or defend my case (not that anyone's actually accusing me of anything, well, other than the medical community here, but that's more than enough for me to handle). that weight. that burden. that heartache. 

just a few weeks after finally rejoining the gym and feeling that my energy levels were increasing and that i was up for exercising, i fell ill with a nasty cold that knocked me out for a good week. and just as it was subsiding, i had to have a pre-cancerous spot from my breast removed, deeming the one semi-appealing form of water exercise a non-option. and, of course, morning/all-day sickness then invaded my body like an unwelcome alien, creating a constant hunger, repeatedly embarassing vomiting scenes, and an exhaustion (combo of grief + pregnancy?!?) like i have never before experienced.

only this past weekend, a good six weeks later, have i felt like moving, staying awake, living, not starving, and not vomiting. so, it's so ironically appropriate that i awoke on yesterday morning to a wave of facebook-slaps-reality-in-my-face grief that, more or less, consumed my day. of course.

but during my Bible reading yesterday morning, as i tried in my broken state to consume the Word of God, i came across The Message's paraphrase of lamentations 3. several of these verses (21-23) have held a place in my heart for years and have promised me hope that joy will come in the morning. but yesterday, in the midst of this marathon in which i found myself, in the midst of reading about the israelites' captivity in babylon, i read these words again. and in the midst of the tears and anger and frustration and exhaustion, the LORD spoke to me afresh through his Word:

19-21 I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness,
    the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed.
I remember it all—oh, how well I remember—
    the feeling of hitting the bottom.
But there’s one other thing I remember,
    and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:

22-24 God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out,
    his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.
They’re created new every morning.
    How great your faithfulness!
I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).
    He’s all I’ve got left.

25-27 God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits,
    to the woman who diligently seeks.
It’s a good thing to quietly hope,
    quietly hope for help from God.
It’s a good thing when you’re young
    to stick it out through the hard times.

28-30 When life is heavy and hard to take,
    go off by yourself. Enter the silence.
Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions:
    Wait for hope to appear.
Don’t run from trouble. Take it full-face.
    The “worst” is never the worst.

31-33 Why? Because the Master won’t ever
    walk out and fail to return.
If he works severely, he also works tenderly.
    His stockpiles of loyal love are immense.
He takes no pleasure in making life hard,
    in throwing roadblocks in the way.

hope. that's what i had yesterday and what i have today. and tomorrow. and the day after that. and although life will disappoint me time again, {his hope} will not. romans 5.5 (niv) says, "and hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." and then there's hebrews 6.19 reminding me that hope securely anchors my soul to Jesus. so i will hope...and know that the only marathon i'm truly running is the one Christ has set before me (hebrews 12.1-2) and that Jesus is my prize...and he's already won! AMEN!