Big Announcement

My friend wrote me an email the other day saying, "I miss you. I thought maybe I accidentally got unsubscribed from your blog, but then I went to your blog and saw that you haven't been writing..."

I thought to myself, "I miss me, too."

It's hard to know where to pick back up and begin writing again. So much has happened in my heart and life since my legs were taken out from under me last November. It has been quite a journey, and one that I couldn't find the words to express along the way. I felt like it needed to be a season of reflection, healing, and personal growth for me.

I've felt like Mary in Luke 2 where it says that she "kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often." That's what I've been doing. Taking all these "things" that have become my story and pondering them over and over again.

If you don't attend South Bay or follow me on Twitter, you may not have heard that Andy & I are expecting again! We are, obviously, thrilled and cannot wait to meet our Miracle later this year. I am 15 weeks along and (FINALLY) allowing myself to feel excited and expectant as we move out of the "danger-zone". After 6 years of hoping and praying and longing, this is really happening and it brings tears to eyes just to type that.

When we found out that I was pregnant again, it was a strange mixture of emotions for me. As much as I wanted to be head-over-heels excited, I felt very guarded and even a strange sense of grief. I tried explaining it to a friend by saying, "If a parent who had multiple children lost a child, that parent would absolutely be thankful beyond words for the surviving children. But the grief would still run deep for the child that was lost." I wanted to feel nothing but happiness and relief when this pregnancy became a reality; but for me, the grief lingered on a bit.

The following is an excerpt from an email I wrote to my family when I told them I am pregnant:

I can see pieces of the bigger story coming together, brushstrokes from the Almighty. It's just taking my heart time to catch up... to receive it all with joy. I have more peace. I'm just awaiting the joy.

The day our family drove home from that vacation in San Diego last November was a cloudy day. It drizzled on and off throughout the drive. I felt the grayness was quite appropriate. But the sun kept fighting its way through the clouds- visible rays of sunlight shooting down through a hole in the heavens. There was a rainbow that followed us almost the whole way home. It just kept showing back up on the horizon. 

I knew it was God's way of speaking to me but I couldn't receive it. I wanted to, but my heart was so raw. "Stacie, my promises are still true. I'm still the same faithful God. I will never leave you." All day long it would speak to me, remind me, taunt me. At one point there were two rainbows side by side, as if He took out a megaphone to try to get through to me. "I'm not done with you yet. This is not the end of your story. I'm still painting. Beauty is coming. Trust me. Believe me."

So, so much pain. I still don't understand how the pain makes the story more beautiful. I still don't see why it had to be written this way. But one thing is finally coming into focus that had been blurry for too long: I can see that God has been with me every step. 

This baby that I now carry is due the exact week that I miscarried in November. One year later to the date. My due date is November 9. The miscarriage began November 7 and the heartbeat was gone on November 12. It's a strange redemption. A painful, tearful redemption. But a redemption, no less. 

He's got me in His hand. And He's got you, too.  Wherever you are in the story, you can trust the Author to work it all together for your good and His glory.