God's Mercies

Tonight I had the opportunity to share a devotion with a wonderful group of women.  Since the anniversary of Lilia's death is only two days away, I wanted to post this as my "altar" of His continued mercies.

It would be impossible for me to talk about God’s mercies and not speak about the hardest year of my life thus far.  But I want to start with 3 men from the Bible you may know well:  Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.  You probably know the story well… Some Chaldeans had it out for the Jews.  They fooled the king into making an absurd law that required all people to bow down to a gold statue every time music was played, knowing full well, the Jews would not.

Naturally, our famous men refused.  This enraged King Nebuchadnezzar who called Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego before him.  He gave them another chance, or rather a threat, if you will: Bow down, or face the blazing fiery furnace.  And he said these words them, “and who is the god who can recue you from my power?”

Their response?  “If the God we serve exists, then He can rescue us from the furnace of blazing fire, and He can rescue us from the power of you, the king.  But even if He does not rescue us…”

And this, these words are where I have lived for the last year.  Even if he does not rescue us…. 

On January 16, 2013 – just one year ago this Thursday - I gave birth to a 7 lb 10 ounce healthy baby girl.  Healthy in every way, except for the fact that her cord had caused her demise before she ever took a breath outside of my womb.  I carried Lilia for 2 days shy of 42 weeks.  I was prepared in every way imaginable to add a 5th child to our family.  But on that day, He did not rescue me… He did not rescue her... At least not by the world’s standards.

Where is there rescue in death?  Where is there rescue in those left behind?  Where is there rescue in my living children anxiously looking in the car for her upon our return home from the hospital?  Where is there rescue in the painful process of my milk drying up because there is no baby to seek nourishment from me?  Where is there rescue in sleepless nights – not because of an infant’s demands – but because of the lack of them?  Where is there rescue in counting heads and dying another death every time I stopped at four?

Rescue.  I wanted nothing more than rescue from this horrific pain, this unimaginable void.  I wanted rescue upon every awakening only to discover the reality of my empty arms.  But, in His mercy, He granted it not. In His mercy He did not rescue me… He did not rescue us from the fiery furnace of our brokenness.  And this was mercy.

If He had rescued her, rescued me from this pain, I would not have spent months wrestling with the Lord as Jacob did only to see Him face to face.  I would not have seen His unbelievable holiness and my absolute need for His saving grace the way in which I did.  Had he delivered me, I would have gone on living life unaware of deep pain but completely unable to comfort others in the way in which He comforted me.  Had Lilia lived, I would not have felt His tenderness for me over and over and over again as He granted me “treasures of darkness and riches from secret places”  (Isaiah 45:3).

Mercies sometimes come in the form of deliverance, but other times it comes out of being burned in the fiery furnace – the greatest challenges of life.  For me, in that complete brokenness is where I was truly able to grasp How Deep the Father’s Love for Us.

The world would look at this situation and ask, as Nebuchadnezzar did, “and who is the god who can rescue you from (this) power?"  My answer?  Lilia went straight into the arms of Jesus, knowing only love.  After Christ’s death on the cross, there is no greater mercy I know.