Jesus loves you, this I know

Jesus loves me, this I know . . .

I’ve been planning a memorial service—searching through the piles of material that minister friends have sent to find something that feels authentic, sorting through Scripture for that which reaches beyond the numbness.

The minister in me wants to write something new, but I’ve promised Allyn I will not do that now. And I know that it is more than a promise to one who loves me–I physically cannot (which, of course, Allyn knows). How do you find the words that you need? The words that you need to hear someone else speak to you? Who am I to try to comfort myself, even if it is comfort from my faith? I cannot.

I can think through things to personalize the space—the remaining portion of Avelyn’s blanket, the stuffed lamb music box that my grandparents bought for her after the pregnancy was announced, perhaps some pale pink flowers. As I was placing the blanket under the lamb so that I would know where both were, the lamb’s music box began playing the tune to “Jesus Loves Me.”

Jesus loves me, this I know . . .* Little ones to him belong. They are weak but he is strong.

I thought of these words again today as I again found myself laboring. Turns out Tuesday evening was only the beginning. This time I passed tissue, pink with lines of bright red blood. Internet research seems to indicate that this was the placenta. Before I completed the research, I just held on, wondering if this might be the gestational sac that was holding Avelyn. I held and I wept and I rocked and I thought those lines with a slight twist: Jesus loves you, this I know . . .

And I must admit that if I end up seeing a gestational sac, I may never let go.

Author’s note: This is the twenty-first post in a series on pregnancy loss/miscarriage. Read the first post, “First ultrasound,” here.

*I omitted the line for the Bible tells me so here. The Bible certainly does spell out the love of the Triune God—and I certainly believe what it says. But right now I don’t think I believe Jesus’ love because the Bible tells me, but because I feel it. God’s love is coming through caring friends, through the prayers being lifted up on our behalf, through the feeling of being held in the arms of the Creator. At this point, the Bible is merely confirmation of what I know to be true on a much deeper level.

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