Thursday, May 3, 2012

Bigger Picture Moment: Miracles

I prayed for miracles.

Two this week.

In honest pleading, hope desire, I prayed. We prayed.

And yet still one couple said goodbye to a small babe in the womb; today another says goodbye to the son they held in their arms for just under an hour before he went to the arms of Love.

I prayed for miracles.

That these tiny lives would hang on and hold out and give to the world the gifts of their hands, their hearts, their minds.

That two sets of loving parents would watch these babes grow.

That their feet would join the stampedes, more echoes would be added to the thundering in my hallways during get-togethers.

I prayed for miracles.

Two babes being rocked in the embrace of heaven.

I wonder if they've met the two small fruits of my womb in the midst of being held.

I don't ponder it for long because peace washes over the tugging struggle in my heart of how I've prayed on my knees for miracles that seemingly never come, for an end to farewells that don't want to be bid.

An eternity with out goodbye.

An eternity I don't yet realize, understand, but one two of my babies, their babies now know.

One He knows because He prayed for miracles, too.

"Father if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." Jesus offered in painstaking prayer* during the hour of his arrest before He traded His life for ours. 
He prayed for miracles, too.

And though it didn't look like what He'd asked for, in mercy, in grace but laced with pain and grief, He got the miracle, He gave the miracle of death defeated in the permanence of eternity.

Thick hope grows quick, fresh, lush in my thawing end-of-winter heart.

I pray spring for those who mourn today, too.

I prayed for miracles.

These babies long-nestled in our hearts, pulling our souls Homebound, ingraining in us a longing for life without goodbye seeded in the soil of our soils, instilling in us more of a longing for more that miracle that came after the cross.

I prayed for miracles.

And I find them growing slyly wild in the revealed promise of the forever summer that is for them and is also yet to come to us through grace.

*Luke 22:42

In honor and memory of beautiful baby Sam.




Simple BPM


Share a picture, words, creation or list; just come to the table with the beauty in the simple moments of the week.. 

Live.
Reflect on the blessings that were apparent to you this week.

Capture.
Harvest them!

Share.
Link up your gleaned moment this week at Melissa's! Please be sure to link to your post, not your blog. Your post must link back here or have our button in your post or the link will be deleted.

Encourage.
Visit at least the person linked before you and encourage her in this journey we call life.


12 comments:

  1. I'm so sorry for your loved ones' losses, Hyacynth...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Tracey. My heart just hurts and hurts for these two losses ... we grieve the universal language of loss, we mothers.

      Delete
  2. He GOT the miracle, He GAVE the miracle ~ His surrender forever the upward call to me. Yielding, bending ... "loosing" our will - especially in the midst of the loss you've walked through yourself, and with close friends - is such a struggle. Thanks for pointing us to the light, for lifting the struggle and pointing us home. This is really powerful.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Adrienne ... it's all I can do when the unthinkable happens ... keep looking toward the Light.

      Delete
  3. Such sadness in our world. What a wonderful reminder to pray; a reminder that even in His darkest hour, Jesus prayed as well. Thank you, Hyacynth.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Now, that I would heed my own words ... thanks for reminding me back.

      Delete
  4. The beauty of this piece is so moving. It could only be written by one who knows the pain. I will pray for all of you, babies, mamas and daddys...all.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for your prayers, May. Please keep these babe's parents in them as the days turn into weeks, if you feel so led. xo

      Delete
  5. Sadness. It's so beautiful to me that you can see beyond this, see beyond now, to the miracle that embraces them and us. Your words are so lovely.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Sarah. I am thankful to see glimpses of beyond now ... but that's not to say I haven't spent the majority of the day in prayer, in sadness and in tears. Because it wasn't supposed to be this way. It just wasn't.

      Delete
  6. I'm really very sorry about these losses. It's all so very hard.


    ....In other news, I just want to say I LOVE LOVE LOVE your new blog design. It's so clean and pretty and feminine, without being overly girly (if that makes sense) and the colors are gorgeous. I love it!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Hyacynth...those whose words hold such depth of wisdom and understanding truly have felt the sting of sorrow and painful agony in their own souls. For somewhere in the "DeeP", the Father gives us the words.

    Thank you for sharing out of that place...and for holding on until hope broke/breaks through. HUGE hugs from across the miles....

    ReplyDelete

There's nothing better than good conversation ... but not while talking to myself. Will you play a part in this discussion?

AND will you pretty please have your email linked to your account or leave it for me so I can respond?

Thanks for taking the time to make these thoughts into conversation.

ShareThis