Wrap Me Warm

Another installment from the #OCA series. There wasn't a lot of new thoughts in this one, but I liked it because they were quotes from the Casting Crowns song, "Just Be Held" which helped me a lot right after your accident and prompted me to look up the lyrics. I remember that I found that song after watching a video Jaime sent me called "Storyteller" which we all love so I looked up those lyrics as well.

When you're on your knees and answers seems so far away. You're not alone, stop holding on, and just be held. -Casting Crowns

"Wrap me warm, my three-year-old Johnny cries whenever he gets out of the car on a cold day, knowing we will hold him and pull him in closer with our arms to feel secure, to feel sheltered, to feel comfort. Sometimes the path from the car to the door seems like forever, as frigid air stings the skin, but Johnny holds tighter, burrowing his head, having some understanding that the feeling will come to an end eventually, and until then, he is as safe as he can be.

Growing up a Christian, I never remember a Bible verse that told me that those moments of discomfort wouldn't come if only I believed. I never heard a song that guaranteed my heart wouldn't break or tears wouldn't fall. In fact, a childhood verse I remember actually guaranteed the opposite, that in this world I would have trouble, but that I would also have a peace--that wherever I was, God would also be. In those moments when I was uncomfortable, I, too, could lean on my Father, to feel shelter even in the roughest storms and to feel a peace in the turbulence that I wouldn't be able to understand.

Last March, I buried my head deep into my Heavenly Father's chest when I walked out of the hospital having just learned that the child I was carrying was not expected to live. I couldn't walk faster to the car, anticipating respite from the storm when I shut the door behind me. I couldn't temporarily escape the wind or the chill or see an end in sight. It didn't matter if my child died tomorrow or died in 4 months, my child was going to die. I can't describe this pain...just as much as I can't describe the peace I felt when I asked God to "wrap me warm."

Funny how those childhood verses became adult meditations, the ones I cling to and find my hope in. I put my verse in my pocket on a piece of paper and fumbled it around every time I went to an ultrasound. "For I know the plans I have for you, wherever you are-I am." Words he promised me but also to little Sam, who continued to grow inside of me for 100 days after the diagnosis, who was born alive, and who I held as he passed from this world into the arms of the One Who would wrap us both warm.

(The part that mentioned He promised that to me and to you is very special and meaningful).

I am not saying that this prayer kept me from aching or feeling a pain greater than I have ever know. I buried my baby. I long to hold my beautiful boy in my arms again. I have dreamt of having just one more minute with (Hayden). It's something that will never leave me.

Asking God to "wrap me warm" is something I need to do every time I struggle. If I don't, I get pulled in to despair and overtaken by grief. After (Hayden) died, I was consumed in the pain and brokenness. It hurt to breathe. I felt anxious about everything and hopeless. I couldn't stop crying. But God was gentle, speaking to me through a song, filling me once again with a peace that in those moments, didn't make sense. Losing a child could never make sense. No one could find understanding in it.

But I was reminded again of his peace that passes understanding when these words filled the air.

You are my revival, Jesus on you, I wait. And I'll lean on your promise, you will renew my strength.
-Lauren Daigle

I would never escape this storm, but my strength could be renewed, and I could wait on God's promise. The promise that He was there, wherever I was, and He would give me strength. I just kept listening over and over. You are my revival. My revival.

I looked up the definition of revival and it means to be reawakened, renewed, restored-basically to come alive. On my own, this is a word that would never have entered my vocabulary after my loss, but I was not on my own.

The song continued.

I will run and not grow weary. I will walk, I will not faint. I will soar, on wings like eagles, find my rest in your everlasting name. (from my favorite verse!)

This is what I needed. Rest. Rest from the pain, rest from the storm, and His strength because I had none. I needed once again to be "wrapped warm."

There is another song that has been on the radio lately, and when I hear it, I feel the intimacy that God longs for with His children, the intimacy that has allowed me to come alive.

If your eyes are on the storm, you wonder if I love you still
But if your eyes are on the cross, you know I always have, and I always will
Not a tear is wasted
In time you'll understand
I'm making beauty with the ashes
Your life is in my hands
-Casting Crowns

He's making beauty from the ashes. Restoration. He gives me new strength. Renewal. He gives me hope. Reawakening. My revival.

(Amazing paragraph coming up!)

There is an old question that asks if it is better to have loved and lost or to have never loved at all. I wholeheartedly believe it is better to have loved. I was the lucky one. I would never trade the pain in  losing (Hayden) for the joy I had in knowing him. For the rest of my life, I get to speak his name, to count him as my own, to smile when I talk about him, as I am now.

Yes, I lost, but oh, did I love.

Forever changed by (Hayden), forever changed by God, and just like my three-year-old, knowing my weakness but seeking His strength and humbly, gratefully, and forever asking to be wrapped warm.

By Laura Rundell