This week is just weird. It feels like a really long, sad movie is coming to an end. But there’s a sequel that is already in production. What would have been Manuel’s due date is coming up in a few days- March 30th. Though our baby has already gone to be with Jesus, we are here waiting, expectantly. Waiting. Waiting through the days, which we were told would be filled with a growing baby and the expectation of his arrival. Waiting to step forward from the gestation period that belonged to our son. Waiting to see what March 31st looks like. Waiting for resurrection in our story. Waiting for the sequel.
I’ve referred to these past few months as the third trimester of grief. My counselor has helped me define these last few weeks as the labor pains of grief. Expectancy for our dear baby’s appearance in this world has been painfully contracted and retracted for nine whole months. The final retraction of his unfulfilled days of incubation will be here soon.
As we wait, spring has come and I am glad. I’ve never looked forward to a spring or Easter so much as I have this one. I just need more resurrection in my life. More life. More redemption. More happy endings. More hope. More of the best that is yet to come. More Jesus.
The trees are just starting to bloom and I am so very glad. My allergies are going haywire, but my soul is starting to dance. My heart is being led out of the valley of the shadow of death to a richer land rejuvenated by the cherry blossoms, daffodils, and tulips that will soon put a beautiful barrier between my eyes and the hospital where my son should have been born, just beyond my fence line. I’ll still be able to see reminders of my pain and loss, but not without first seeing promises fulfilled of new life.
Eliza Doolittle from My Fair Lady put it well, “Worse is a sign it’s nearly over.”
The emotional labor pains of grief as of late have gotten worse. They have been deep and taken me to my knees.
But with each budding flower, raised from the darkness of dirt and each blossom coming forth from trees that have had barren branches all winter long, I am reminded that the sequel is coming. It’s in production. This part of the series is nearly finished. All the chapters that remain to be seen in my story will be shaped by this long, sad movie that is drawing closer to the credits. I know that. And I don’t mind. I love that my son, Manuel, was allowed to be a part of my story even if he entered God’s arms before my own. I love that boy with all my heart and always will.
But as I anticipate March 30th giving birth to March 31st, I wait for the sequel. It will have conflict and it will have triumph. But most of all, because the Redeemer of my Soul is the Author of my Story, it will have resurrection.
Are you waiting for a sequel, friend? Take heart. With Jesus as the Author, there’s always resurrection to be found in your story.
“Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:14 (NIV)
{Speaking of Spring, how cute is this Cath Kidston Notebook with blooms?}