In the middle of December, just a month ago, I sat in a room for brunch with some young mother friends. They asked questions about Maggie, blogging, and some suggested I write a book. This has come up in conversation before, not just with me but also my husband, who writes elegantly about our little girl. I confessed some things to those at the table as I will to readers now. I have read books after my daughter died about grief and recovery and baby loss stories from both the non-Christian and Christian perspective. The Christian perspective writings were filled with scripture and talked frequently about prayer and reading from the Bible all throughout the authors’ struggles. While we were waiting months to hear good news, then bad news, then bad news, then good news, then no news, etc, hundreds of people spoke to us about having been praying daily for us. In my home, time of prayers became much more frequent and deep, and intertwined my relationship with God and my husband to a more real and special depth. However, I am confessing that even we, or I, didn’t pray every single day. I didn’t go to the Bible often for guidance and reassurance and peace like the Christian baby loss writers seemed to have done. How could I possibly write a book from Christian perspective when I didn’t cover my days with prayer and scripture? So there it is. Not perfect for sure. But here is what I did do:
When my husband listens to music, he listens for greatness in the actual chords and other musical verbage of stuff I don’t know. I love to sing along to pretty songs and be inspired by how I react. Sometimes that means I become in awe of God’s goodness, greatness, love for me; other times I just feel lost in the hurt, but know He cares for me even so, and find strength through the song. So no, I don’t have many scriptures that come to mind if someone were to ask me what gives me hope. Shame on me. But I have songs. This first song I will share was one I listened to in my car on the way home from work most nights. I was seeing multiple patients in the hospital each day who were asking questions about my growing belly. “Is it a girl or boy? What’s their name? Is this your first baby? You must be so excited”. And repeat in the next room over. I held myself together well until I walked to my car and started my ten minute drive home. This song sung by the York College Concert Choir, You Raise Me Up, played twice at least on my way home at night while I cried and sang along, releasing my anxiety and sadness of the day. These other songs I will list for you to enjoy. Some of these songs were from before Maggie died, others became special after she died. Each of these has been an encouragement to me in times of weakness, sadness, hopelessness, anger, even joy. Take some time and listen to these songs that have helped carry me through deep valleys. Perhaps one might help carry you through the next valley you stumble upon.
Please Be My Strength, Gungor
Because He Lives, Acapella
Blessed Be Your Name, Tree63
Beautiful Things, Gungor
Nearer My God To Thee, amazing piano
Peace Be Still, Acapella