Friday, September 20, 2013

He Remembers

I am sitting here on this fall day, enjoying my pumpkin chai protein smoothie for breakfast. I have been in a contemplative mood as of late, maybe it's the weather, maybe it's all the children being born, I am unsure. I sit here and wonder if anyone can truly understand my heart--if anyone would try. I sit here wondering, how much time is reading this blog of mine worth? How many of my actual friends read it? How many of them take the time to know my heart, my struggles, my sorrow, and even my joy? Although this sounds selfish, I wonder what am I worth--what are my children worth?

A few days ago on Facebook, I had written a status wondering why, we, as followers of Christ, determine others' value. Just because a child is born, does that make them more valuable? The simple answer, is no. Just because a homeless man is at CrossRoads, does that make them more worthy of my donation? Once again, the simple answer, is no. Just because there are living children that need adopted, does that make the leftover embryos from IVF worth less of our thoughts for adoption? No. Just because someone publicly announces their hurt or pain, does that make their pain more valuable than someone who may not? No. 

This is my struggle lately, the struggle that everyone, myself included, has no time for others. The value of life is oh so little for each other. I can write this through a lens of miscarriage upon miscarriage, because it is what I know, what I have experienced. In our "Christian Culture" there is a massive epidemic of selfishness. Even in our hurt we have selfishness. We want everyone to lay down what they are doing just to let us know that individually, we are cared about, we are loved, we are not forgotten. God remembers the sparrow, but do we? God knows every hair on our head, but do would anyone be able to spend that much time with one friend to know how many hairs on their head they have? (I know that sounds awkward, sorry). 

You want to know the hard part? Essentially, we are too busy to care about anyone but ourselves. Even if you are serving in your church with 75% of your time, are you truly serving to minister to others, or are you serving just to serve? Are you serving because it's the right thing to do, or are you serving with others' interests at heart more? Are you serving as Christ served, making yourself low, doing the lowly things, so that others may be held higher in the love of Christ? Are you even serving at all? Are you "too busy" to serve? Christ came to serve others. He spent 33 years serving others, he died just to serve others, His Father turned His face away from Jesus, and He still served. He stayed on that cross, even though He had the ability to get off the cross. He stayed. He remembered the broken, He remembered the hurt, He remembered the ones separated from His Father. 

Nothing makes one life more valuable than another. Nothing. So why do we treat it as such? Although it may be easier to focus on joy and new children (once again, my lens is on) I ask that you consider this. When a woman becomes a new mother, why are they delivered meals, whereas one that has had a miscarriage, or dealing with infertility, is not. I completely understand giving meals to new moms, I have done it quite a few times, it's good for them, useful, helps them. But what about someone like me? Someone who may just have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning because she failed, again, to carry a baby full term. What makes joy more valuable than grief? Even in the adoption process, people pass over embryos leftover from IVF, to adopt a child that has been born. Is it wrong to adopt a child? No. But who are we to say that an embryo--WHICH WE BELIEVE IS LIFE--is worth less than a child in Uganda? Why can we give nothing to the mad standing on the corner by WalMart, but we can donate to CrossRoads? Just because we KNOW they aren't trying to just get money for alcohol? We could sit and talk with them, we could give them a bag a personal toiletries, and brochures to churches, we could give them a meal--what makes the homeless people at CrossRoads more important? None of these things are wrong, but the wrong thing is what we outwardly do to show that one is more valuable than another. Christ died for all, not just the ones we decide He died for--so why do we treat each other differently?

On a little bit of a side note, I am struck by just how few people take the time to truly check in with me, or know the due dates of Myka, Nathaniel, and Hezekiah. I am struck by how alone I am in remembering these days that are so important to me. I am struck by how, not even Simeon, recognizes when these things happened. In the midst of being alone though, I remember that My God remembers. It isn't a fix all thought, I still feel alone in my musings, my hurts, my self blame for miscarrying, my failures to deliver a healthy baby, and my thoughts on what they look like, what they would look like, what their laugh would sound like, what color are their eyes, what color is their hair, would they be fast movers, or go slowly, would they delight in destroying toys or building them? What would I do for their first birthday (Nathaniel's would have been on Wednesday, if he was on time)? How many people would be present for it? How many people are present for it now? God remembers. God knows. Some days it's enough, other days it isn't. Are we, as the body of Christ willing to step up to care, love and encourage others on the days where God seems so far off? On the days it seems He has turned His face away from us? As my rambling comes to a close, I have learned to challenge myself. I will not be the status quo in the Christian Culture. I will take the time to invest to others. I will take the time to grieve with them, rejoice with them, cry with them and laugh with them. I will serve others, so that they may be lifted up with encouragement and love. I may still have a lens of pain and hurt, but I can say one thing. Through wishing and essentially being selfish in my pain, I now know, what I believe to be missing from our lives as follower of Christs. Ministering to others' pain. Some pain is but a moment, but some lasts a lifetime--I will not treat it as if all pain is a moment, I will remember, just as my God does. I now know the heartache of pain that doesn't leave. It ebbs, it flows, but one thing is constant, it will always be there. 

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