This post has been “brewing” for several days now, but I
just haven’t felt it was the right time to sit down and write it until now. As I am writing, I'm in awe yet again of God's perfect timing and how He continues to lead and guide me as I write these posts and share what's on my heart. Today is the coldest day of winter we've had so far this year, a deep freeze. As I sit here typing, I look outside my window and notice what a beautiful sunny day it is, despite the freezing temperatures. Ironic that God would inspire me to write about the coldest season of my soul on the coldest day of the year. Anyway...
So
a couple of days after Christmas, I had the rare opportunity as a mom of 2
toddlers to be out and about by myself. I went to see my chiropractor and then
on my way home, I decided I needed to go by the cemetery before going home. I messaged
my husband, worried about being gone for too long since he was watching the
kids. He graciously told me to take my time, so I went by Starbucks and got a
big coffee and headed to the cemetery. Shortly before I arrived, a song began
to play on my playlist. I had my non-traditional Christmas playlist going at
the time, and there was this song that I had added because at first brief
listen, I liked the sound of it. Do you ever get a feeling like that when you
hear a new song? It was kind of a “hey this sounds like a really good song”
feeling, but I hadn’t looked at the lyrics or actually listened to more than
about 15 seconds of the song.
Anyway, I started really listening to the words and was
blown away. As I pulled up at the cemetery, I parked in my usual spot, in front
of the infant section where Ellie is buried. I pulled out my phone to find the
song on YouTube and send it to a friend of mine. When I searched for the song,
I came across a video that was the artist, Christy Nockels, talking about the
story behind the song. You can watch it here. After hearing the story, it was
clear that God was trying to teach me something big. Here I was in what was
arguably the worst week of my life aside from the week that Ellie left this
earth, and God had a beautiful lesson for me.
I’m totally not a plant person. I have a pretty brown thumb,
actually. I don’t keep plants around because they die. I forget to water them
or something else happens, and they die. Needless to say, I don’t know much of
anything about flowers in general, much less specific ones and how they grow, what climates they like, when they bloom, etc. So I started looking into the amaryllis and how it
blooms. First of all, I was struck by the fact that it looks like a lily. Lilies are my favorite flower. As I
started reading about them, I learned that they bloom in the oddest of ways –
they don’t wait until spring like most flowers. They bloom in the dead of
winter when conditions are absolutely the least favorable for life. Ok, God, I’m
listening….
In the process of looking into the story behind the song and
learning more about the amaryllis, I came across the letter that Christy talks
about in her video. I’d like to share some of it here:
“We love the marking of seasons and how we can trust that
God is working in ways we cannot see, to bring forth life and beauty. We know
that every season is named with purpose. A season of sowing brings forth a
season of harvest… In the same way, the harsh cold of winter brings a season of
dying…a necessary bridge to the awaiting season of warmth, sunlight and new
life. It is a trustworthy ebb and flow, reflecting the consistent touch of the
Creator. The winter is beautiful under its blanket of white, but it is cold and
harsh to the living thing, determined to grow. Everyone knows that the season
for blooming is in the warmth of the new spring. Its gentle breezes and warm
sun that send a message to a sleeping world that all things are becoming new.
It would take great courage to grow and bloom in the
bitterness of winter.
There is no welcoming afternoon sun, no invitation to rest
in the gentle breeze, no rush of new life in the surrounding soil.
But…there are the rare and beautiful treasures that choose
to bloom when the conditions are the darkest.
In the dark bleakness of winter, the amaryllis will spring
up, pushing through the soil, displaying the beauty it was created to share.
Sure, it would be easier to wait until the comfort of spring. The blooms might
even be bolder and brighter, with the consistent nourishment and protection the
new life-giving season would bring.
But the amaryllis bulb knows it cannot
wait.
It was created to bloom and grow…
It bears life and growth and has beauty
coursing through every inside part.
It cannot and will not wait for the gentleness
of spring.
The amaryllis does not bloom because the conditions are
perfect.
The conditions are, in fact, counter-intuitive to new life.
The amaryllis blooms in winter even still.
It will not look to the world around it and depend on it for
nurturing or care.
It will instead obey the world within it and become
exactly
what it was created to be.
It was made to bloom and grow… to bear the image of
the beauty inside itself, set there by a Creator, not bound by time or season.
So, for you, in this season, we are praying amaryllis
prayers.
Prayers for courage to break through the soil and bloom,
even when it’s dark… Even when it’s cold. Prayers to feel the power of Jesus
coursing through your veins, calling forth the beauty He set inside you.
As an amaryllis struggles to break through…to grow and bloom…may
it be a picture to you of our prayers for you and of what we steadfastly
believe will be a part of what God has for you in this next season. We love
you, we are with you, and we are trusting a Jesus that brings the amaryllis to bloom
in winter.”
I love how Christy draws the comparison in the song to the
time when Jesus came. It was the worst “winter” God’s people had ever known.
Jesus came at the end of the 400 years of silence. During that time, God did
not speak. The people were in captivity, wandering away from God. Then Jesus was
born and totally turned the world upside down, even though many were too blind
and deaf to realize what was happening. In the very moment when everyone had
lost all hope of the coming of spring, Jesus came. It reminds me of the line
from the song O Holy Night, “a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.” It is
truly amazing that Jesus chose the harshest of winters, the most difficult of circumstances
to be born into this world. Yet He bloomed beautifully and changed many lives.
Talk about a winter
The world had never known,
Talk about a silence
That hardened up the soil;
No more life left in Eden,
But You knew the time would come...
'Cuz You were growing up a family
That You would call Your own,
And through a fragile people
The Light of Life would come,
And when it seemed like we'd never see Spring,
Heaven gave a King!
Like an Amaryllis, blooming at Christmas,
When everything was cold and dark
Your love broke through and You shined
With the brilliance of summer,
Right in the middle of winter!
You came surprising the night,
Like a Christmas Amaryllis...
Here I am waiting
In a winter of my own
If it's gonna be this cold here
Why couldn't it just snow?
At least I could say through the pain
That it's somehow beautiful...
And everybody knows that the time to bloom is spring,
But You're asking me to break through the hardness of this freeze
And You say that You're with me
And I can make it through anything....
Like an Amaryllis, blooming at Christmas,
When everything is cold and dark
Your love breaks through and I shine
With the brilliance of summer,
Right in the middle of winter!
Somehow surprising the night
Like a Christmas Amaryllis...
There are the rare and beautiful treasures
That grow when it's coldest
When nobody's watching...
Sending a message to a sleeping world
That You are here with us now
And You are making all things new again...
Like an Amaryllis, blooming at Christmas,
When everything is cold and dark
Your love breaks through and You shine!
With the brilliance of summer,
Right in the middle of winter!
Ever surprising the night,
Like a Christmas Amaryllis
You're still surprising the night
Like a Christmas Amaryllis...
 |
| Ellie's Grave |
That day when I went to the cemetery, it was the first time I had actually gotten out of the car and walked over to the place where she's buried. There is no marker there yet. Just dirt. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. I stood there at Ellie's grave, looking at the cold, harsh dirt, wondering how anything good could possibly come from this. As the song played through my earbuds and I let the tears fall, I realized that I have a choice
here. I can choose the “easy” path and stick my head in the sand. I say "easy" because none of this is easy, and, while it might feel better for a moment, choosing to numb or ignore this pain will only lead to more pain and bitterness down the road. That is definitely not the "easy" path. In that moment, I realized that I can choose
to pretend that none of this is happening and ignore it. I can sweep the pain
under the rug and act like nothing is wrong. In fact, sometimes it seems like it would
be easier if the pain just went away, or at least if I pretended it did. But God
has other plans for me. He longs to make all things new. In fact, He IS making
all things new.
He is calling me to bloom even though that doesn’t at all make
sense in the natural world right now. Blooming feels so unnatural to me in this
moment. But I know that the glory for any blooms in this harsh freeze will be
all for the Lord. No one would expect to see blooms or new life springing up right now. God knows I certainly don’t have it in me to bloom on my own. Most days,
I just want to curl in a ball and disappear. But He created me for more than
that, and He desires to see me break through this freeze and bloom, all for His
glory.
Come to find out, as a result of writing the Amaryllis Prayers
letter, Christy’s sister-in-law has started a ministry and a blog. You can see it here.
As I was reading through some of what she’s written, I came across a post that
is particularly meaningful, talking about the heaviness of suffering and allowing
God to transform us during tough times. She says,
Spiritual transformation
comes when we can be real and authentic with our pain to God. We know it’s a ‘real
relationship’ with Jesus because we are seeking to be honest with Him…Not stuff
our feelings, not turn away from Him, not turn to someone or something else to
numb those feelings with some coping mechanism of choice…
But when we go to Him
in our most raw and intimate moments to share our deepest, darkest pain,
suffering, confusion and fear, and we allow Jesus to be the one to catch it, to
hear the honest cries of our hearts…we invite Him to be the source of all
comfort.
Real spiritual transformation happens in us in those brief but
beautiful moments that the Holy Spirit enters in and eases the pain, not of the
situation, but of the tension in us, and meets our sorrow with hope.
The Holy
Spirit enters those moments and brings to our remembrance what we already know
to be true, even if our sorrow tempts us to forget.
I love that! I feel like I am already a completely different
person than I was this time last year, even than I was this time last month. As
I reflect on this past year, I can see how God’s hand was gently guiding me and
teaching me, preparing me for what I had no idea I would face on November 13th,
2017. Had this winter season come at this time last year, I know that my marriage
would have crumbled. I probably would have completely fallen apart. I was not
in a place to be able to handle such a catastrophic loss with everything else
that was going on in my heart and mind at the time. That’s not to say that I
feel like I’m strong enough to handle it now either…I’m most certainly not…But
He is…The difference is that through the work He’s done in my life this past
year, I’m now in a place to allow Him to bear this burden with me, for me. But
that’s a story for another post, another day. It’s definitely not easy, but I
will choose to allow Him to transform me and bring out the beauty He placed
within me long ago. I’ve said before that I want my sweet Ellie’s life to mean
something, to make an impact on His kingdom. I fully believe that a big part of
that depends on me and whether or not I’m willing to allow God to repair this broken
vessel and make it beautiful in His way, in His time.
And to add a cherry on top of this beautiful lesson the Lord
is trying to teach me…I received an amazing gift in the mail this week. It’s
something I’d been waiting on for several weeks now. I had told my husband a
couple of years ago that someday I really wanted to have a piece of jewelry
made as a symbol of my breastfeeding journey. It has not been an easy thing
with any of my babies, and with baby #2 (Caroline), it was a particularly
difficult struggle. I had learned that people use breast milk to make “stones”
and put them into jewelry. To some of you reading, that may sound totally wack-a-doodle.
That’s ok. Just go with me here…It’s definitely not for everyone, but it was
something that I knew would be really meaningful for me.
After Ellie went to be
with Jesus, I decided that I really wanted to have some jewelry made. I spent
the morning after she died looking online at different options and felt
completely lost. Then I came across this ring….It was so beautiful, and I knew
it was the one. Some very generous mamas in my due date group on Facebook, who
I’ve become friends with even though we’ve never met in person, decided to go
in together and give so that I could have some mementos to honor Ellie’s
memory. They purchased this ring for me (along with several other things). At
the time, I just thought the ring was really pretty. So one of my mama friends
ordered it for me, and I’ve been waiting for weeks for it to arrive. It was
made from a little bit of my breast milk, and it also contains a tiny lock of
Ellie’s hair in the “stone.”
When it came in, I eagerly opened the package. The
description written by the maker is that the single band supports the star to
shine, much like a mother supports her children, and that the star can
represent the bright and guiding star of a loved one who has passed away.
However, when I opened it, I was struck by how much the “star” resembles an
amaryllis. What a beautiful symbol to wear always and think not only of my
sweet girl and how she has forever changed my life but also to think about God’s
call on my life to defy all odds, all expectations, and do what He created me
to do – bloom.
Because He is with me, I can make it through anything. And He is making all things new, as the song says, "like an amaryllis blooming with the brilliance of summer right in the dead of winter." I pray that as I continue to walk this new and unfamiliar journey called grief, He will keep on shining through and "surprising my night like a Christmas amaryllis." ššŗ
Please....don’t think I am a stalkerš¬. In fact, I very rarely respond to post. I just so want to encourage you and this “amaryllis “ ministry. Grieving your baby-no matter their age- requires you to be able to lament in order to heal. At first I thought this meant that I would be “over” Jacob’s death and would return to normal.... now I understand that I have been healed over the trauma of his death but I will always yearn for his presence. There is a book that I am reading “No More Faking Fine” that is written about the need to lament. You... my dear.... are a true lamenter. May our dear Lord continue to speak to you and through you.
ReplyDeleteOn another note..... I would and did run from my extended family my first Christmas. You deserve a medal if you made it or if you didn’t.
Beautifully said Caitlin. I love how God works even in the darkest of times. Love you!
ReplyDelete