Lani
Just over four months ago, after unanswered calls, I sat praying harder than I ever had over my friend, Lani.
I went to sleep feeling a sense of utter peace and trust.
Yet I woke up to a call that shattered my heart and challenged my trust in Jesus.
Mark and I were about ten or eleven weeks pregnant at this point, and I honestly couldn't reconcile the fact that the same God who created this miracle child in my womb couldn't have saved Lani the way we all were praying for Him to.
I did some work with Jesus that first week or so...I shared my anger, my feelings of disbelief and abandonment in all honesty. Finally seeing God as a protector in my own life made this quality of His one of the most important in my faith - and I felt He had abandoned that role in Lani's life.
Although I only knew Lani for a few short months, her and her mom seemed like they had always been a part of our church community. They jumped right in to serving, to community, and filled us with laughter and joy that we all needed.
Lani had one of the most creative spirits I've ever seen - both stateside and all my travels abroad. She saw the world in more vibrant colors, could process her emotions in this beautiful journaling style, painted and sculpted and just CREATED beauty in this world.
Her spirit was also so calming and disarming. I had open and raw conversations with her from the first time we sat down. I remember one talk at Panera that's just stuck with me. As I sat across from her, I told her how thankful I was that she was here - that she was fighting the hardest battle every single moment of the day. As I looked her in the eye, I told her that she was wanted, needed, and accepted without being perfect and joyful all the time.
She and I both started tearing up as she shared how sometimes, when the temptation becomes so strong, you can't think straight. You forget about all the good things - the reasons for living - and it's impossible for people to talk you out of it. I told her that I'd always be a phone call away, and that I promised to remind her that this world needed her in it when those dark times came.
We left that coffee date not knowing that just eight short weeks later, it would seem like the darkness had won.
It wasn't until a couple week's ago that I realized how much weight and blame I was still carrying around from Lani's death. I used to see her at night when I'd sleep...she'd have this sad look on her face - similar to one I'd glimpsed at Panera.
A dear friend shared with me a word from Jesus that set me free from that way of thinking for the first time these past four months. There was nothing I could have done, Jesus was with her in those moments, and she's with Him now in heaven.
I cried the whole way home, but not from sadness. For the first time sine Lani's death, I was able to rejoice knowing that I'd see her again.
And more importantly, that this little miracle baby would get to meet her, too. I know Lani would have loved this child like her own, and would have probably taught him/her the coolest art things ever. Even though they won't meet this side of heaven, I'll get to tell Baby Smiley about Lani, her beautiful heart, her amazing accent, and that she's worshipping in front of the throne - where we'll get to join her one day.
I prayed and believed with all my heart that Jesus was with her,
would protect her,
would intercede on her behalf,
that I'd see her soon.
I went to sleep feeling a sense of utter peace and trust.
Yet I woke up to a call that shattered my heart and challenged my trust in Jesus.
Mark and I were about ten or eleven weeks pregnant at this point, and I honestly couldn't reconcile the fact that the same God who created this miracle child in my womb couldn't have saved Lani the way we all were praying for Him to.
I did some work with Jesus that first week or so...I shared my anger, my feelings of disbelief and abandonment in all honesty. Finally seeing God as a protector in my own life made this quality of His one of the most important in my faith - and I felt He had abandoned that role in Lani's life.
Although I only knew Lani for a few short months, her and her mom seemed like they had always been a part of our church community. They jumped right in to serving, to community, and filled us with laughter and joy that we all needed.
Lani had one of the most creative spirits I've ever seen - both stateside and all my travels abroad. She saw the world in more vibrant colors, could process her emotions in this beautiful journaling style, painted and sculpted and just CREATED beauty in this world. Her spirit was also so calming and disarming. I had open and raw conversations with her from the first time we sat down. I remember one talk at Panera that's just stuck with me. As I sat across from her, I told her how thankful I was that she was here - that she was fighting the hardest battle every single moment of the day. As I looked her in the eye, I told her that she was wanted, needed, and accepted without being perfect and joyful all the time.
She and I both started tearing up as she shared how sometimes, when the temptation becomes so strong, you can't think straight. You forget about all the good things - the reasons for living - and it's impossible for people to talk you out of it. I told her that I'd always be a phone call away, and that I promised to remind her that this world needed her in it when those dark times came.
We left that coffee date not knowing that just eight short weeks later, it would seem like the darkness had won.
It wasn't until a couple week's ago that I realized how much weight and blame I was still carrying around from Lani's death. I used to see her at night when I'd sleep...she'd have this sad look on her face - similar to one I'd glimpsed at Panera.
I kept rethinking on a daily basis how I could have called more,
texted more,
checked up on her more,
engaged more,
prayed more...
A dear friend shared with me a word from Jesus that set me free from that way of thinking for the first time these past four months. There was nothing I could have done, Jesus was with her in those moments, and she's with Him now in heaven.
I cried the whole way home, but not from sadness. For the first time sine Lani's death, I was able to rejoice knowing that I'd see her again.
And more importantly, that this little miracle baby would get to meet her, too. I know Lani would have loved this child like her own, and would have probably taught him/her the coolest art things ever. Even though they won't meet this side of heaven, I'll get to tell Baby Smiley about Lani, her beautiful heart, her amazing accent, and that she's worshipping in front of the throne - where we'll get to join her one day.
"Then came the morning that sealed the promise
Your buried body began to breathe
Out of the silence, the Roaring Lion
Declared the grave has no claim on me
Jesus, Yours is the victory!"
Your buried body began to breathe
Out of the silence, the Roaring Lion
Declared the grave has no claim on me
Jesus, Yours is the victory!"
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