First taste of death--Jordan Hope

Growing up I don't remember being personally affected by death.  I vaguely remember funerals of great-grandparents and my grandma.  But only vaguely.  Death was something I rarely gave any thought to. Death is something that was rarely discussed in our home. And, when it was discussed, everyone who died was on their way to heaven (which later as I became more familiar with scripture I learned is completely inaccurate).

All of that changed five years ago. Five years ago as a young 22-year-old with only two years of marriage and eight months of motherhood under my belt I met death face to face. 

We had been surprised to find out we were going to have our first two kiddos only fourteen months apart. Surprised, but excited. It's amazing how quickly you daydream for your littles, envisioning them growing up and playing together. Who they will be. How they will shape your family, your home.  After only thirteen weeks into the pregnancy, I started bleeding. You can read the whole story here...

http://www.wherewearefornow.com/2008/09/all-things-are-possible-with.html

In the world I grew up in, things like this didn't happen. Babies weren't supposed to die. I saw families split firsthand, but babies and children lived.  I am so thankful that God saved me, that He changed me from the inside out, that He gave me His Holy Spirit.  I'm thankful that He used the broken home I grew up in to bring me to Himself.  In that brokenness, Jesus showed up.  He showed me firsthand that all things work together for good for those who love Him--even divorce...even the death of my baby.

As a young 22-year-old, I was brought to a place of brokenness. I was reminded of my dependence on the One who sustains me. I was experiencing the physical consequences of sin--death.  So many questions, so much confusion, so much pain...and empty arms. 

But unlike the aloneness I felt before, during, and after the divorce as one who just had church in her life, this time I had a loving husband, a beautiful daughter, and most importantly a glorious Savior.  

Because Jordan Hope was so young there would be no elaborate funeral or memorial service. There would be no graveside ceremony. There would only be our memory. There would be bedtime prayers from her siblings thanking God and asking Him to take care of their sister.  There would be a stocking hanging with her name on it every December. And there would be a birthday cupcake every September. Because she is loved. Because she matters. Because she is our child.

The following link is a list of things I wrote shortly after the whole miscarriage took place, a list of thankfulness...http://www.wherewearefornow.com/2008/09/lessons-learned-and-blessings-received.html