I Choose Death
Maybe I decided it’s time to
shake things up…maybe I wanted to see if any of you are still reading these
ramblings…maybe you’re like me and need to be shocked out of complacency every
now and again. Regardless of the reason, I want to share with you some thoughts
I’ve been marinating on for quite some time now. In order to do so, please allow
me to direct your attention to an old blog post, appropriately titled, “I Choose Life.”
/thecarrride/2013/06/i-choose-life.html
/thecarrride/2013/06/i-choose-life.html
I’ve continued to feel
wounded, to some degree, over the last 8 months that God didn’t honor my wishes
that night as I penned those groanings from my heart as we waited to hear from
Zoe’s surgeons. As I’ve said many times in the past, we were completely shocked
that God chose this ultimate healing instead of just fixing her heart and
giving her back to us.
I KNOW certain Scriptural promises to be true, but I’ve yet to FEEL the truth of those promises. Like when God promises…
I KNOW certain Scriptural promises to be true, but I’ve yet to FEEL the truth of those promises. Like when God promises…
to be near to the broken-hearted…
that His plans are to prosper
me with a future and a hope, rather than to harm me…
to never leave me or forsake
me…
that I will find Him when I
seek Him with all my heart…
Honestly, I’ve found comfort
in clinging to these promises even when I don’t FEEL like they’re true. Gotta
start somewhere.
SO in the first month after
Zoe died, while in the heaviest throws of our grief, the hubs asked me a simple
question…
“Would you do it all over again?”
What's with all these questions he keeps asking me?!? I looked at him like he had 7
heads as I simultaneously threw up in my mouth. Was he smoking something? How
could I possibly answer that? I couldn’t even bring myself to get out of bed in
the morning most days. But put myself through all this torture knowingly and
willingly?!? Well, that just seemed a special kind of insanity. But as I
started simmering on that, (marinating…simmering…it’s always about food with
me) my only answer could be,
“How could I not?”
Because when the smoke
clears, and all is said and done, to answer “NO” would mean…
to never have known our
precious little girl…
to never have held her
tightly, brushed her hair, dressed her in her tiny little clothes…
to never have taught her to
sing, Jesus Loves Me and never have
heard her singing it all by herself…
to never have fought so
fiercely to save a life…
to never have trusted so
fully that the Sovereign One had it under control…
to never have been her Mommy…
Sure…if we could choose to
not suffer so greatly, anybody in their right mind (hmmm…maybe that’s the
problem here) would RUN from this level of pain…BUT no one who looked into the
eyes of this sweet baby could turn a blind eye to her need of a family.
So since there wasn’t a 3rd
option…you'd better take a seat.
I choose death.
I choose death.
I choose the death of someone
we loved so deeply in such a short time over the peace and comfort of not
knowing this grief.
I choose death because before
this sadness, we had an amazing 3 months of loving our sweet baby.
I choose death in our care
because without it, Zoe would’ve died in an orphanage, longing for a family.
I choose death and pain
because to avoid it would’ve been a result of our disobedience and apathy.
I choose death because to
escape that would mean a pint-size emptiness in my heart that would feel like the
weight of the world.
I choose death because that
means we had LIFE to lose.
God be with me as I’m
realizing that, in this season of our lives, both Zoe’s death and ultimate life are one
and the same.
I believe. Lord help my
unbelief.
I choose death.