I had a dream. Of telling my story in front of Journey Church. I would pour my soul out about losing my two babies and many women would relate and run up to me and say “me too!” I would hug them and say, “I know. It’s so sad.” We would cry, I would hug them and the story goes on. I wrote a book, I told my story in front of hundreds and I would feel better at the end of the day.
The dream seemed to have come true. I was asked to speak in front of Journey Church to tell my story of losing my two babies, Jaden and Zac. But I couldn’t meet the requirements of the venue, I was going on vacation and wouldn’t be able to speak in front of who I thought needed to hear my story. I was devastated. I cried. My ego was called out by God, He said, you aren’t on the course I want you on. I called back, “but God, I want to tell my story.” He said, “You already have, you wrote a book.” I yelled back, “but I want to speak!” He cried, “Your ego is too big. I am bigger.”
It broke me, my heart, my story seemed insignificant. I wanted to tell it at Journey Women, because I was certain that women needed to hear my story, that they would befriend my story and take my loss into their hearts as their own. I knew I needed to tell it on a stage. But God had another plan and I was too wrapped up in my own idea of how He wanted my story to be told. I buried my need and held my dream in my heart. I would tell my story on a stage…someday, right?
I lead a table at Journey Women Gather and only two women showed up. They disappeared before I had a chance to gather them up and take them into the stadium where the other women were telling their stories, the ones I was supposed to be with. I wandered into the sanctuary and found a single woman. Alone, sitting by herself. I asked if I could sit by her and she said yes. I said ok. We sat alone, together, listening to the ladies talk and the Lord work. God nudged me and said, “ask her if she’s a mother.” Um, ok. I don’t know this girl but ok. “Are you a mother?” I whispered in her ear.
Then He brushed against my ear hard, “ask her if she’s had a miscarriage.” WHAT????? Are you sure God? I don’t know this woman! Are you SURE? Yes, He said in my minds eye louder than I’ve ever heard Him.
“Have you ever had a miscarriage?” I obey.
Eyes meet. Tears collide. She holds up two fingers. Yeah well, me too, I think. Me too, side by side burials. Two. Me too.
God says, ask her if she wants to talk outside. The volume of the speakers blare, the sound of their words override what I’m afraid to ask. But somehow I do. “Do you want to talk?” She nods. We walk hand in hand outside to the vestibule that God had waiting for us from the moment she walked into Journey Church tonight.
We sat, we cried, we listened, we wept. For our babies. For our loss. God didn’t want me to speak to a huge audience that my ego would have loved. God needed me to speak to a singular person who I had no idea existed. He needed me to tell my story to allow another to cry, to hear her tears that the world tells her that are not good enough. For a world that says that miscarriage isn’t a loss that needs to be heard. It’s a silent loss. It’s a secret for us to keep.
God told us that we are not alone. That the anniversary I celebrate yet mourn on Sunday, the 10 year loss of my Jaden Hope, is a forever loss that needs to be heard. But God wanted it to be intimate, to be between me and a stranger this year. I listened, she told me her story, I cried, she spoke and we are forever bonded together.
Ego is strong, I am a victim of it, but God had other plans for me tonight. He had a picture of me sitting with a grieving mother who has suffered as I have, one who needed to be heard, one who needed to tell her story more than I needed to be up on a stage beaming my story as I pridefully told my tale. God said, “No”! I have other plans. I have a single person who needs you and you need her.
Because, God plus me equals trust. God plus me equals truth. God plus me equals a story that was meant for one not many. Because ego is strong, but God is Truth if we listen. If we follow, if we hear the story we are meant to tell, to whom we are meant to tell it to in the moment it is meant to be told. In that we are met with the breath of God, the Holy Spirit and the truth that is meant for us to live in the moment we are meant to live in it.