Friday, June 7, 2013

Healing: Undressed

He met with me graciously in a quaint bedroom-turned-office, a moment where I could feel the warmth of God's breath on my neck.

I sat on the couch across from Michelle, a woman who's graciously been walking with me through the grief and healing of losing another baby during pregnancy, as she thanked God for being healer and restorer, almighty and good and then petitioned God to remind me of a time when I felt loved, cared for, safe.

Because after losing another baby, I've needed constant reminders of those feelings to heal. After losing a baby and knowing week by week how far along in the pregnancy I would have been had the baby lived, I've needed pictures of tender care to remind me that God isn't the pain I've been feeling but rather He's the comfort in the pain.

Through deep breaths and hands open wide, God brought to mind a time when I was small and sick. Small and uncomfortable and sitting in an oatmeal bath at my grandparents' house.

The itching was relentless, and my had grandmother pulled me out of the tub and proceeded to gather a cotton ball and calamine lotion to dab each and every sore on my skin.

And as I remembered her care, her love poured out in the act of trying to ease my pain, God whispered to my heart that He wanted to do the same with all of the sores coating my heartskin, all of the wounds that are still open and gaping.

But I'd have to stop running from the pain. I'd have to stop shooing away the hurt when it surfaced while deleting another "Your Pregnancy This Week" email. Or while looking at the calendar for September, wide open and clear. Or while remembering the other two babies who never snuggled into my arms.

I'd have to stop hiding myself away beneath the clothing of coping, and I'd have to shed those clothes and sit in the healing waters He offers and bring to Him my sores and allow Him to dab the lotion on with cotton balls.

I'd have to remember what it's like to come before a loving caregiver as a child in need, to shed the clothes of cover I've been hiding beneath and find freedom and comfort in sitting before Him in my own skin, wounded as it is.

And could I?

Could I do that?

Could I just trust the God who sent me the grandmother who'd poured love over me in a vulnerable season to also pour love over me in another vulnerable season?

On a couch, in small quaint bedroom-turned-office, on a cool Early- June day, I decided I could.

And I undressed from the clothes of coping and stood still as He dabbed the first of the sores, relief cooling the first of many.

Relief in losing the clothes that I've been outgrowing and that no longer fit.

Relief in remembering what it's like to be safe despite feeling underdressed.

Are you walking through a season of grief and need someone to walk alongside you? Michelle Lenz at Cherry Hill Counseling in Lake Zurich has been walking beside me, and I'd be happy to connect you with her. This isn't a sponsored post; just a helping hand extended because, you know, sometimes we can't walk through pain alone. 


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  3. Your words ache, and they are so very vulnerable, but you are on the right track. Just keep listening to your heart. Love you!

  4. I am in tears reading this. Such beautiful courage, not only to walk through the pain so boldly and vulnerably but to share that walk so openly. May the comfort of His presence and the love of those who care continue to aid you in your healing. Many hugs!

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