I’ve been wanting Kenya lately. Amidst all the pain and chaos and uncertainty, I’ve been craving familiarity. Or maybe I’m drawn to the warmth and jacaranda trees since the white flurries and piercing cold have arrived and settled in.
That can’t be it though, because I’ve been missing Forest City nights, too. I recall many a winter nights when I foolishly went for long runs. Only by God’s mercy did something bad not happen to me then.
A silent ultrasound. No heartbeat. Bleeding. So much blood. Sleepless nights. Unfathomable pain. Endless tears. God’s mercy?
A Christian OB/Gyn. A sympathetic nurse. A bathroom adjacent to our bedroom. Matt at my side through everything. Promises spoken, Promises recalled. Jesus’ blood shed on the cross. God’s mercy.
Bitterness strokes at my heart as we wait nowadays. It demands that my actions be a certain way and my thoughts be a certain way. It tells me to disregard promises and Truths. It’s a daily battle…an hourly battle. Sometimes it wins. Sometimes I fight back and win.
God’s mercy is the only thing getting me through some of these days.