About four days ago, Michael and I moved our whole house across town to a slightly larger place that will allow him to commute to work in the fall with a little less time, and will allow me to teach violin/viola lessons in the fall as well. During this time I was also teaching music theory at Raspberry Ridge, the camp that I wax eloquently about every year.
This being the case, as soon as we finished school on the 12th, Michael and I crashed for a couple of days, enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in past 5:30am, and then threw ourselves into packing up all our worldly belongings.
Before we started packing things, I struggled with the change that summer was inevitably bringing to my life. Before my miscarriage, I had looked forward to finishing work so I could stay home this fall, have a baby, and then possibly teach violin at least part time. I had looked forward to slowly growing larger, to decorating the second bedroom that we moved to have, to enjoying baby showers, and generally anticipating the addition of a small little life that would consume all my time for at least a little bit.
With the sudden cessation of all business and school, I was suddenly faced with all the "could-have-beens" and, honestly, it took my breath away. Michael had to deal with many stormy tears.
However, Raspberry Ridge, as it has been many times in the past, was balm to my soul. The theme was on prayer, and while I taught music theory to all the campers, and then led a Bible Study, I was reminded about prayer. Also, every year I am at Raspberry Ridge, I have at least one good, refreshing conversation with someone. This year, I had a conversation with a good friend who should be moving into town in the next year or earlier. I also had a conversation with a (16-year-old?) girl who just found out that her mother's breast cancer had come back, metastasized, and they might have 3 years with her.
Seeing her grief about this brought back my own about losing Alexandra, but God allowed me to speak grace, God's goodness, and His love to her, as well as pray for her and hold her as we both cried. That is one good thing that has come from this miscarriage. I am able to know the pain that grief can bring, and because of that, I have the (new) ability to comfort someone in their grief and remind them that God is in it all.
(Another good thing about the miscarriage is Michael. He has been so patient and loving to me in dealing with my grief, which one day seems far away, and the next is so close it hurts all over. I honestly think that if this hadn't happened, I would love him less.)
As it is, while I was at camp, Michael and two friends moved all our stuff across town. After RR ended, I unpacked, and cleaned, and unpacked some more, until I was almost overwhelmed. Truth be told, I'm not done yet, but my mother and my sisters came over yesterday and moved boxes upstairs, and unpacked boxes, and helped me do the labor of several days in about 3 hours. It was wonderful. Now Michael and I can sit on the couch and watch World Cup games. Which is where I'm going right now.
Thank God for husbands, RR, refreshing conversations, and mothers and sisters.
~H
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