Dear God,

Today I cry as I do everyday because my sweet daughter has been taken from me.  For whatever reason you chose not to save her so here I am having to figure this life out.  I know I haven’t led the perfect life.  I have made mistakes, I have hurt people, I have done some bad things.  But during all of that I never doubted you.  I knew you had a plan for me and my life.  Chris and I went to church, we had a small group, we tried to teach our children to love you.  We prayed over them every night for their safety, to keep them healthy, and that they grew up to love you. So I really don’t understand why this had to happen to us.  It really hurts that you chose this path for us to live.  There is something deep inside of me that wants to say you are good.  But this does not feel good.  Whatever this plan is I hate it, with every ounce of my being, I hate it.  I wake up every morning and remember what I don’t have, what was taken from me.  I have moments of strength.  I want to honor Haddie’s life by doing good and raising awareness about her death.  But a lot of the time I just want to curl up in a ball and stay that way until you come back for me or decide it’s my time to go.  I know I should be praying for heaven to come soon.  But I even have a hard time finding comfort in that.  I know that I won’t feel that way when I get to heaven because once I’m there I will be completely fulfilled.  But Haddie doesn’t need me.  When she sees me again she won’t need a mother.  God, I’m so mad, hurt, and just plain devastated and it’s only day 46 of this awful journey.

As angry as I am I can’t imagine this journey without you.  Chris has said it several times, “I don’t know how we would get through this without God.”  It’s true.  But it doesn’t make it hurt less and it doesn’t make me less angry.  I’m not ready to jump on the, “Let’s use this for His glory train.”  Haddie isn’t supposed to be in heaven she is supposed to be here.  I want you to bring her back.  I want you to give me a miracle.  Is there still a chance that this is just a really long bad nightmare and you will be gracious and wake me up? I really thought my miscarriages were going to be the greatest tragedy of my life.

Today in my devotional I read, “I am nearer than you think, richly present in all your moments.”  Do you grieve with me?  Does your heart hurt when mine does?  Do you cry when I cry?  Do you lash out in anger at the people you love because you can’t figure out your feelings?  I am utterly broken inside and I am holding on by a thread.    

Trying to trust,

Sandy