One year {365 days} later

Dear Baby Rasler,



It’s been nearly a year. Almost 365 days since I lost you. This has been by far, one of the hardest years of my life. You’ve been thought about every day since that terrible Friday evening. This year has been a year of anger, frustration, loneliness, and fear. I’m just being honest. I’m going through a year that is testing my faith in a very real way.


I think I’ve rested in the fact on the reasons you’ve left, but I’m still left with the fears of the future. The problem I have is the times I’ve been most vulnerable in my life have often times left me with the most pain. In secret, I wrote to you. In secret, I prayed over you. In secret, I dreamed of everything that God was going to have you be. And in secret, I lost you. Maybe some people don’t understand my pain. It was only a miscarriage they say, not like a child that grew up in your home. Ah, you’ll get pregnant again, they reply. But the difference is I gave you everything. My attention, my body, my focus, my prayers and my heart. And a broken heart takes awhile to mend. People expect you to get over and be “normal” again. That’s what they want from you. That’s what they need you to do.


I haven’t felt normal now, for about a year.


Nothing in me wants to experience what I did with you again. But the reality is that I’m no different than anyone else. I cannot be spared from pain just because I don’t like it. And I don’t like that. It took everything in me to recover from your loss. Anti-depressants, gym time, weight watchers, and especially spending time in the Word have helped me heal along the way. But I’m learning of the 4 listed, the first three are fleeting and the last one is only sustaining.


The thought of losing control scares me. Losing control of my emotions, my diet, and my waistline. The strangest thing though, when it comes to the Word of God, he says that the tighter we hold onto things, the easier they slip away. Besides the things of this world only pass away, but we are to store up for ourselves treasures where moth cannot destroy and where thieves cannot steal.

Maybe what I’ve uncovered in myself is idol worship. The idol of control. The idol of vanity. And it’s reared it’s ugly head in this last year. My loss has exposed my own shallowness. Ugh. But selfishly, egocentrically, I don’t want to go through all that again.


I have no answers or revelations to this problem. So I’m not a “super” Christian. But all I can ask for at this point in time is for God to help me.


Where I’ve placed other priorities above you, Lord, forgive me.
Where there is confusion, I pray for peace.
Where there is uncertainty, give me trust.
Where there is pain, grant me healing.
Where I’ve chosen to hold on, Lord, help me to put it all at the foot of your cross.
And lastly,
Lord, where there is fear, restore my sight with hope.