My life is full of great friends, it has been humbling and comforting to have gone through the loss if this life with so many people who love me and the child that we will never have. When I am having a hard day, which I have had every day for the last two and a half weeks, without fail I have had a friend comfort me in the exact way that I needed. Through e-mails, meals, listening ears, hugs, ability to relate, cards, flowers, phone calls, etc. friends have been giving me strength that I have desperately needed.

One such friend gave me an immediately treasured gift; a worksheet that when worked through creates a biblical lament. I have really found it hard to do, but very therapeutic. I have written two... Of all the Psalmists laments, there is only one, Psalm 88, that doesn't end in a praise point back at God's goodness.  I have clung to the importance of there being one such lament, because even though I know that God isn't mean, He sure looks mean right now.  I hope to one day be able to end a lament in praise, but that is just not where I am at right now. And I am so grateful that even though I can't sing His praise, He still pursues me and keeps the lines of communication open. He hasn't slammed the door in my face and he never will. I am so glad that we have a Lord who can love is through our pain, sadness, and anger... even when it we take it out on Him.

I haven't written on here for a few days because I realized that I need to be hand writing/ journaling through this. There is just something about my hand on a pen and paper that "feels" better than typing. As time goes on, I may share more on here, but for a while I will be taking my grief writing private. Perhaps I'll share again once I have a lament that ends in praise.

Psalm 88

LORD, you are the God who saves me;
   day and night I cry out to you.
May my prayer come before you;
   turn your ear to my cry.

I am overwhelmed with troubles
   and my life draws near to death.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
   I am like one without strength.
I am set apart with the dead,
   like the slain who lie in the grave,
whom you remember no more,
   who are cut off from your care.

You have put me in the lowest pit,
   in the darkest depths.
Your wrath lies heavily on me;
   you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.
You have taken from me my closest friends
   and have made me repulsive to them.
I am confined and cannot escape;
 my eyes are dim with grief.

I call to you, LORD, every day;
   I spread out my hands to you.
Do you show your wonders to the dead?
   Do their spirits rise up and praise you?
Is your love declared in the grave,
   your faithfulness in Destruction?
Are your wonders known in the place of darkness,
   or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion?

But I cry to you for help, LORD;
   in the morning my prayer comes before you.
Why, LORD, do you reject me
   and hide your face from me?

From my youth I have suffered and been close to death;
   I have borne your terrors and am in despair.
Your wrath has swept over me;
   your terrors have destroyed me.
All day long they surround me like a flood;
   they have completely engulfed me.
You have taken from me friend and neighbor--
   darkness is my closest friend.