Friday, May 16, 2008

Peonies and Tulips

May of 2007 was a time of celebration and love, but also heartache and loss. It is beyond my capacity to understand why God, at times, has us face trials from both ends of the spectrum in the same moment. Both seem to tug at our hearts in very intense and unique ways. What I do know is that God taught me a lot about the bonds between mother and daughter and sisters back in May of 2007, and these lessons I will cherish forever. At a time of overwhelming joy for me, as I was in the final weeks of preparing for my wedding day, my sister experienced the most intense of three miscarriages she has undergone in her life. Words cannot express building up and tearing down of the very fabric of our hearts, however I believe my mom comes closest in a journal entry she made at the time…

5/3/07

Peonies and Tulips

I planted three peonies today. I took great care in selecting them…two deep pink and one, almost white. They stand in a row, separate, yet together. Their stems are sturdy, yet flexible enough to gently bend when the wind approaches and the rain falls. Their beauty and aroma astound me.

How puzzling that a visit to the nursery provided the beauty that went into the soil today, yet, a hospital nursery never held the three babies we love so dearly. In the ER, Lynnie’s words, “I wish I was having a real baby” still my heart and gnaw at my hope. I am so sorry, my darling girl. So, so sorry.

It is the parents’ privilege and honor to name their precious children, so I do not presume to do so. Yet my heart whispers three names: “Lynn,” “Pete,” and “Samuel.” I will love them always. And each May, when the peonies bloom, I will celebrate their brief lives and their beauty. They are a gift from God.

Moments later:

Tulips. Will they hold up for the wedding just two weeks away? There is something strong in their fragility…needing support, welcoming it, yet proudly holding their heads and revealing their beauty as their vulnerable petals risk opening. Delicate. Sweet. Strong.

Lara, that is you. Delicate. Sweet. Strong.
As you prepare for your wedding day and your marriage bed, may you rest in your heavenly Father’s arms and take strength from your Savior who risked it all for you. May you glimpse your loveliness as a woman and a bride. Oh, such sweet intimacy.

Today I grieve grandchildren and at the very same time, smile for you, my darling Lara.

Ecclesiastes 3 says it all…
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
Vs. 4 A time to weep and a time to laugh,
A time to mourn and a time to dance.


Spin in your bridal gown, dear one, and dance. You are a radiant bride.

4 comments:

AZChelsea said...

I remember you sharing this with me...it's beautiful! Thank you for sharing!

Shelley Blocker said...

Wow! How moving..Thanks for sharing that, Lara. I didn't know your sister had experienced that. I pray she will be able to bear children one day. Your mom put her thoughts down so beautifully. Your friendship is so valuable to me! I miss my dear friend!

Rach said...

That made me cry. I've actually been thinking about your sister a lot lately and wondering how she is doing. I pray for her and ask that in God's amazing timing, she will realize her desire of becoming a mother. I know how much you love her and wish that for her too.
Your mom is blessed to have you for a daughter. I love her words... about spinning in your wedding dress. I see where you get your gift for writing.

mandy said...

so beautiful! your mom's words are just wonderful.