Tell Me Something Good

“Tell me something good.” I say this often to sweet husband when I’ve had a rough day or I am just feeling the need to hear something kind. You never quite know what he will come up with—I’ve gotten some really sweet things and some really hilarious things. But whether my reaction is happy tears or laughter, it is always something good.

April is baby month. Baby month takes on a new meaning when there is no baby. Losing a child has changed me in ways I never expected. An implosion of circumstances that has found me sorting through the rubble and clinging to what remains. I have three amazingly wild and wonderful boys, and I should be grateful for that, right? I am. So beyond grateful. They are a constant reminder of all that is good and all that is lost.

I sit today, in anxious anticipation of an event that will not happen. Instead, I see pictures of babies born to precious mommas who were due at the same time as me. My heart smiles for them and yet breaks. I see my oldest teaching my youngest new words and skills and wish the same for my Jacob. I see my middle hug his brother and snuggle up next to him, and I wish the same for my Jacob. I see my little purse his lips to give a kiss, and I remember the same shaped pursed lips of my Jacob on his tiny little face as I said one last goodbye.

He was strong, but not ready.

Crossing over into baby month, I feel strong, but not ready. I am not ready for the gaps that lie ahead. The milestones we will cross without him here. The wondering of all that might have been.

This last week has been hard. Heck, this last whole season has been hard. But Tuesday morning, I watched sweet husband drive off to work again. While we are confident and blessed in where God has us, living in two separate states is trying and exhausting, and Tuesdays are my least favorite day of the week. Last week, I watched him drive off in a loaner truck as we had just gotten the news only 20 minutes before that his truck would need a new engine, which in turn meant that we were going to have to buy a whole new truck. Something we were not planning to do any time soon. He looked defeated, I tried to be strong. I promised him that everything would be fine, gave him a smile, and we waved goodbye. But as I walked away and back into the house, I felt a tear trickle down my cheek as I whispered, “God, please, tell me something good. I just need something good.”

I spent a good part of my day picking out, stressing over, and buying a truck for sweet husband which he would receive sight unseen. The next day, I drove it to Texas to deliver it to him. I pulled over to connect my phone to the Bluetooth before we began the journey, and when I saw the screen it said, “Jacob’s iPhone.” Something small. Insignificant to many. But just a little something good. A reminder that God will not allow him to be forgotten.

I spent the weekend at a women’s retreat, and one of the main songs of the weekend was “Good, Good Father.” Jacob’s funeral song. And I stood with tears streaming down my cheeks, I sang out to remind myself that even when it hurts, God is perfect in all of His ways. And painful as it was, a reminder that God will not allow Jacob to be forgotten.

And He will not allow me to be forgotten. He is working even the tiniest of details out for His glory and my good. After spending an evening with a weary heart, I woke up this morning to turn my calendar which said, “This season in which you find yourself may puzzle you, but it does not bewilder God. He can and will use it for his purpose.”

In the ebb and flow of life, we can’t always see through the fog to know what God has in store. This current moment may be hard, but we can rest assured that God is working on something. He will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born. We must simply believe in His promise, stand on it, and keep walking. He can and will use every season for His purpose. Simply keep walking…