After years of disappointment, my friend and his wife finally got pregnant. Not only did they get pregnant, they were pregnant with twi
ns. Their news came about the same time that Janny and I found out we were pregnant again after the loss of our first child. We had both experienced the possible pain and disappointment of pregnancy and now we cautiously re-entered the terrifying waters.
He was in my Hebrew classes and every week when we’d first see each other, we would ask each other how our wives and children were doing (expecting the worst, while hoping for the best). When we would hear, “things still look good,” we give each other a hug and jump back into our Hebrew study.
After asking the question one week, he looked down and said that his wife’s uterus wasn’t growing and the doctors were concerned that the babies wouldn’t make it to term. My heart sunk and we both feared a replay of past loss.
A few months ago Janny and I got an email with a picture showing two healthy babies, a smiling mom and a relieved dad. We were brought to tears.
I have another friend whose wife was pregnant with twins. They were so fired up and excited about their growing family that they had even created a blog where they could share the progress.
At 19 weeks into the pregnancy, her water broke and they had no choice but to deliver their two boys. They entered the world alive and both mom and dad were able to hold them in the palm of their hands for a couple hours. There was no way to keep them alive, so after these short sacred moments together, they both past away. We were brought to tears.
As I send and receive emails from both of these friends, I am struck by the contrast in their stories. What do I say? How do I respond? Such incredibly different stories, yet they both love and serve the same God.
Janny and I have experienced both the pain of loss and the joy of new life. When we share in these stories, both lead to tears. But the tears represent two very different emotions and outcomes.
Where is God in this? How do we move forward in the midst of such a tension? We live with an “entangled theology…”
Note: I will post “Part 2” on Wednesday and “Part 3” on Friday.
Gosh. I know. It’s so hard to see such suffering. Especially when there’s no explanation! I have no way to come to terms with this. God is there in both situations with the same love. That’s all I know.
I agree, Linda. It seems that the more we try to rationally explain away this stuff, the further we go from the heart of God. There is so much mystery in the story of God.
I agree Jon. There is so much mystery in the story of God. We sure don’t understand it all but just trust Him to be faithful & sovereign & know that He is love. Thanks for sharing your thoughts! You do have an amazing way of expressing yourself.
I am a simpleton. But I find great comfort in the mystery of God. I rest knowing that the same God who takes life for His own reasons can also give life. It’s contradictory to my finite mind, but it must somehow be for a purpose to the Infinite.
There’s no polite way to say it… but I think there’s something to this exploration of pain. I’m looking forward to where you’re headed.
Good word, Adam. When we (products of the Enlightenment) embrace the goodness of mystery, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. So often mystery becomes synonymous with “lacking the truth,” yet I feel that I most often encounter the truth within the mystery.
He is love, indeed! Even if that love takes forms that we don’t always expect.