Tomorrow morning Nate and I will say goodbye to the baby we have yet to meet. On Monday at our ten week prenatal visit the doctor was unable to find a heartbeat through either the monitor or the ultrasound. She later confirmed by ultrasound that the baby had died. Our sweet babe with face unseen and hands unheld has bypassed our home on earth and gone home to her loving Savior in heaven where she is healed and whole.

The sadness comes in waves and yet my head is held high above them in a way that I cannot explain. I feel as though there are three buoys fettered to me so that I cannot even free myself from their mercy. The first preserver is the prayer of believers. It is only in dark valleys that you smell and taste the sweet fragrance of believers’ prayers. They are a comfort and mercy beyond description.The second is a verse that first came to me inscribed on a stone by a friend and now is engraved in my mind that it is my first thought when the sadness starts to well up around me–”Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him” (Psalm 62:5). And the final buoy was prayed over me by our pastor’s wife, “may your hope in be in God and not in this baby.”How profoundly true and reassuring these words were and are. God alone is eternal, wise, all-loving, all-comforting. There is no comfort apart from Him.

On Monday evening, Nate told Ava that the baby in mama’s tummy had died. “On the cross with Jesus and now she’s in heaven with Jesus,” was her instantaneous reply. She then explained to her daddy that Jesus was going to heal the baby in heaven and then send her back to mama’s tummy. After a bit of back and forth, she conceded that her sibling was in Heaven forever, while she was still on “earff,” and that when she gets to heaven she can play ring-around-the-rosies with the baby and Jesus. After being told that she could pray for a new baby to come in mama’s tummy, she immediately and very earnestly prayed, “Dear Jesus. Please heal mama’s tummy on the cross. Amen.” It didn’t come out quite right, but we believe that the Spirit interceded on her behalf and presented the message as it was rightfully intended. Ava has continued to be faithful in her prayers for a new baby. Her spontaneous, heartfelt prayers are shared with me throughout the days. I can say with the psalmist that “out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise.”Ava’s sweet faith has been a grace and a comfort to me.

A sweet friend wisely sent me this poem–word pictures have always moved me in ways that visual pictures fall short. Through many tears I can say this is true and this is the Rock upon which I can put my foot.

God moves in a mysterious way
his wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
and rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
of never failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs
and works his sovereign will.

You fearful saints, fresh courage take;
the clouds you so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
in blessings on your head.

His purposes will ripen fast,
unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
but sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
and scan his work in vain:
God is his own interpreter,
and he will make it plain.

God Moves in a Mysterious Way by William Cowper