In Spite of My Doubt (Part 2)

Ironically, even after our children did finally come home from Haiti- even after I got what I'd been begging God for- my faith did not 'go back to the way it was.'  I continued to struggle.  I continued to feel disillusioned and hurt.

We were blessed with a honeymoon period with our new children.  Adopting older children means bringing home kids whose hearts have been shattered by the losses in their lives.  They don't have the emotional maturity or the language to talk about their massive grief, nor do they trust that anyone in their lives is safe to share with, so their pain comes out in their behavior.  We didn't start to see how broken their hearts were until about 4 or 5 months in.  And then- as they say- all hell broke loose.

Because things had gone so well at first, I had decided to believe that our kids had withstood the trauma in their lives with more strength and maybe even more of God's protection than many other kids.  I thought that maybe, since the waiting had been so hard on me, God was giving me a pass on parenting kids with difficult behavior.  So when their behavior took a nose dive I was thrown off guard and once again surprised that God would allow so much pain and difficulty along a path He had called us to walk down.  And I felt even more disillusioned and wounded by God.

At the 6 month mark we received a phone call letting us know that our Haitian children's biological sister had been relinquished to the orphanage.  She was available for adoption.  Would we bring her home to her siblings?  I was emotionally exhausted.  It seemed like too much to ask.  And yet, I had held that sweet girl on my trip to Haiti to bring our children home.  I had pictures of her with her brother and sister.  How could we not say yes?  We prayed about it and sought council and wrestled with the decision for days.  And then we said yes.  Yes, we would allow that sweet baby to grow up with her flesh and blood.  And in spite of my weary heart and massive fears, I immediately loved that girl with everything in me.

We are a helplessly hopeless people, aren't we?  And so I hoped.  I hoped that this adoption would go more quickly.  And that this girl, since she was coming to us so much younger, would have fewer hurts. I hoped that God would use this process so show me how He was redeeming all of my pain.  I just knew that He had led us to our first 2 children because ultimately He wanted to use our family to bring these 3 siblings together and that we were going to see the miracle of that take place.

I was completely leveled then, less than 2 months later, when we received a phone call letting us know that our baby girl had died very suddenly in a hospital in Haiti.  I could not have possibly known that I would feel so much grief.  I desperately wanted her.  But on top of that, I grieved the hopes and the dreams I had.  I grieved the unmet expectations that I had for all I believed she promised for me and for our family.  I grieved the added wound that her brother and sister had piled onto their already shattered hearts.

Ulitmately, as so often happens, my grief rolled into anger.  I was furious with God.  Isn't He all knowing?  Isn't He over all?  Doesn't He ultimately control all things?  He knew this was coming, right?  He knew.  And yet He still asked me to say yes to her.  He still allowed her to die.  He didn't intervene.  He didn't save her.  He didn't save me- from the pain, the disillusionment, the gut-wrenching grief.

Before deep pain happened to me- when I was ignorant and had fashioned a safe God for myself to believe in- I would have had trite answers for others whose lives were falling apart.  I would have been confident in explaining it all to them- how God had a plan and that He works all things together for good and all that stuff.  I wish I could remember and apologize to each and every one of those people.  I have no doubt that, in spite of my well-intentioned ideas, my words were completely shallow and inexperienced and they poured salt into already festering wounds.

The kids' behavior continued to deteriorate. And my behavior, fueled by hurt and anger, created an incredibly unhealthy mix.  In fact, at some times, it might have been a miracle that I didn't physically hurt them.

In Spite of My Grief

I didn't really know grief until Nandinie died. I had experienced losing my grandparents and that was hard- but not devastating.

My life has been pretty and easy. It has been happy and blessed. It has been sheltered.

And then grief happened to me.

It was a complete surprise. I didn't even know that Nandinie was sick until she was already gone. And she hadn't ever been here with us. She was still in Haiti. So even the depth of my grief was a surprise, as we didn't really know her or have a relationship with her. We only had our hopes and dreams of her and the love we felt for her because she had been born in our hearts the moment we said yes to adopting her.

People who have not experienced devastating losses in their lives can sympathize with someone who is grieving, but not empathize. There is a difference and I learned that after she died. I have been forever changed. I am now a momma who has lost a child. I am part of that group. And so is her birth momma.

I realize now that this culture doesn't know what to do with grieving people. We are uncomfortable with them. We want them to STOP grieving so that we can stop being uncomfortable. How do you stop something that overtakes you in spite of you? God told us to expect both. Both are NORMAL. Neither is wrong or out of place in this lifetime.

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven;
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance...
Ecclesiastes 3: 1-4 NIV

There are other cultures that do a better job of joining someone on a journey thru grief. And, I believe that we used to do a better job too. There were periods in history when people who were in mourning wore clothing that announced to the world that they had lost someone close to them. People didn't try to hide that life was hard or ignore that someone was hurting. It was known at a glance. And they might have worn their mourning clothes for several months or maybe even a year or longer. It must have been a comforting reminder to a hurting person that it was still okay and even expected that he or she put on those clothes and remember their grief and the life of the person they lost as they also took time to heal.

I'm not saying that is the answer- or that there aren't down sides to that idea. I just think we don't know how to let ourselves grieve for as long as it takes or to let someone else grieve as they need to.

As I cried out to God and sought for answers in the Bible in those first few weeks after her death, I came to understand a passage of scripture that hadn't ever made sense to me before. In the book of John, chapter 11, Jesus learns that His very dear friend, Lazerus is ill and even dying. But He doesn't go to him. He then learns that he has died, and so He goes to see Lazerus' sisters. His sisters are so confused and angry in their grief that Jesus didn't come before it was too late to heal their brother.

As Jesus sees Mary weeping, He experiences, as a human man, the anger of grief and the sorrow and He, too, weeps. He then asks to be taken to the grave where Lazerus was buried. As He saw the grim reality of a tomb and thought of His own friend lying in there He wept again. And after He had wept, He raised Lazerus from the dead.

I never understood why He grieved, why He wept, when He knew that He was going to raise Lazerus from the dead. And, what I have come to believe is born out of my own experience and not necessarily the why. (I may ask Him when I get to heaven if I'm even close.) But I believe that in that moment, as He saw someone who He loved grieving that gut-wrenching grief that feels unbearable, that Jesus, the Son of God, felt as a human, but also as God- the overwhelming grief of every person on this earth who has or ever will grieve the loss of a loved one. He wasn't grieving the loss of Lazerus. He knew Lazerus was going to come back to life. He was empathizing with each one of us who knows that pain. He felt the pain, He understood it as a man and as a God who sees all our pain, and He grieved in empathy for Mary and for me and for you.

I experienced my God and my Savior in a new way on the day that that story made more sense to me. I experienced my God as empathetic in a tangible way for me.

There will never be an explanation that feels okay to my human mind for why sweet Nandinie died in October. Please don't tell me a reason why. It won't help. However, my God has proved Himself to me over and over and I can trust that He knows best and He knows why. I am at peace knowing that He knows. I can also see how He is using her death to bring glory to His name and to continue to grow me into a child who looks more like her Father. That doesn't answer why, but it does bring some beauty out of the ashes.

In spite of my grief, His love, His empathy, His comfort and peace, overwhelm my soul.