He Works Everything for the Good Part 4

Marvelous are Your works……….

The days that followed the loss of Peighton were difficult to say the least. My husband and I were on the top of a mountain only to be pushed to the bottom in the most abrupt fashion.

I remember watching television as a distraction only to cry every time a diaper commercial came on. I never realized how much they target new moms with advertising during the day hours. It wasn’t just me either. We were both having difficulty and no matter what channel we chose, the commercials were similar.

At this time in my life I was not aware that some of what I experienced on a regular basis was depression. Due to my erratic menstrual cycles and all of the emotions with it, I was not aware part of it was actually depression. What you don’t know can in fact hurt you!

My husband had to go back to work a few days later. As the days got longer and harder to get through I felt myself slipping further and further into a depression that I just could not stave off. I laid on the couch and cried most of the day and slept the rest of it.

At the memorial service for Peighton I met a Christian counselor who helped me tremendously. He helped me to walk through my grief and feeling of hopelessness. While talking to him I realized that my pain was much deeper than the loss of this child. I realized that if I was going to make it out of this dark place I needed my family’s help. They were all in Ohio.

Later that evening I discussed my going to Ohio to be with family for a while to help me get out of the funk I was in. My husband was at a loss as to how to help me so he readily agreed.

I found unbelievable comfort at my aunt and uncle’s house. My mom along with several of my aunts visited me and shared similar experiences of loss within our family. Prior to losing Peighton I had no knowledge of anyone losing a child in my family. It comforted me and saddened me at the same time. Why had I not heard about their loss before?

During my stay there I would wake up each morning and head to their front porch swing. I would lay or sit there and visit with God and family members throughout the day. In the soothing sway of that swing I felt a stirring in my soul that I did not want to acknowledge. It was too much for me to even think about let alone entertain the thought of actually doing.

To give you some context, I need to back track in my story.

I was raised in middle white America. There was only one black family in our district. I don’t remember any families of any other nationalities.

When I went to college I had a fear of other races and nationalities so it was a huge eye opener for me. I had lived a very sheltered life in every way imaginable. I was surrounded by students of multiple nationalities, race, and color. It was overwhelming at first but exhilarating at the same time. All of the things I had been taught were not matching up with my experiences with my new found friends. I was getting to know amazing people who were not like me at all.

My sophomore year of college I met a guy at a beginning of the school year party. He was a freshman on campus and already very popular. He did not know that I was dating the host of the party so he asked me out. I refused him. That did not dissuade him from continuing to pursue me.

After two years of him employing the assistance of whomever he could. The final straw was his relentless hounding of one of my closest friends who was dating a close friend of his. I broke down and agreed to go on one date with him. Of course, I had rules for the date. He would pay for his meal and his movie and I would pay for mine. There would be no physical contact and he would not ask me out or bother our mutual friends again. Oh, and, it had to be a double date with mutual friends.

That crazy dude agreed!

While on the date he insisted on paying for my meal and movie. I insisted that all of the other conditions would remain in place even if he paid. He didn’t seem to care. At the end of the date he walked me to my dorm, thanked me for the date and headed to his dorm.

I cannot explain it because I never believed in love at first sight but I did fall in love with him that evening. He said he was going to marry me before I even agreed to the first date. He was right. Almost four years after meeting at that party, we were in fact married.

I absolutely knew of my dad’s stance on other races and especially on the intermingling but I chose to marry a man of color anyway. The day I told my father that I was getting married to a black man was the day he chose to sever our relationship.

Fast forward four years back to my aunt and uncle’s front porch leaning into God and His love and guidance.

I realized that I was struggling to process the death of Peighton due to the situation with my father. I could not understand how I could love and grieve the loss of a child I was never able to hold and yet my father knew me for eighteen years and was able to just shut me out of his life completely.

I felt God telling me that I had to confront my father. I cannot explain the need that arose inside of me. I could not deny the urge to go and see him.

When I informed my father of my decision to marry a man of color he made it very clear what would happen if he found either of us in the same county in which he lived. Still, I could not shake the urge to go to him.

I found him in the back yard working on the white picket fence that surrounded my childhood home. He was a bit more than a little surprised to see me. Fear gripped me so tightly that I started to urinate right then and there. Luckily I had recovered enough to control it and not have a full blown accident right there in front of him.

I will not rehash what was said that day but I will share what I walked away with.

My father’s words did not match up with what his eyes told me. His eyes did not match his body language. The clenched fists and rigid stance told me that he was a stubborn, stubborn man who had drawn a ling in the sand and was far too proud to allow either of us to step over it. The struggle that his eyes told me was that he loved me deeply but there was no turning back on his determination to keep me out of his life.

And my soul knows very well…..

My family was concerned about my decision to visit my father but my Heavenly Father knew it was necessary for me to go through that event. After my visit I experienced immediate healing and peace in my heart. That confrontation with my past was what my soul needed to push through the dark clouds. I truly believe that God knew exactly what I needed and He gave me that urgent need in my heart and the strength to act upon the urge. I further believe that this was exactly how He used the loss of Peighton for the good.

God took the loss of Peighton to mend my shattered heart. Had I not found peace with my father and our estrangement I believe I would have carried that loss in my heart and it would have eventually destroyed me. I understand and believe this in my very soul and I praise Him for it. My soul knows very well that God is faithful and full of grace and mercy. I do not deserve any of it but He gives it to me anyway.

I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are Your works, And my soul knows very well…..

To say that I praised God for the loss of Peighton would be a lie. I grieved and questioned God over and over in this loss. I just could not understand the why behind it.

For a long time after the loss I had a deep sense of responsibility for the loss of Peighton. A big part of me felt that I lost Peighton because I disobeyed my parents by marrying a man of color. I had read about David and Bathsheba and based my conclusion on that story. For a long time I would read that set of passages and the pain and deep seated beliefs would hit me like a tidal wave.

I still have feelings of guilt from time to time. I know in my heart that once evil stepped foot in that garden we were doomed to face situations like the loss of our children and other deep pains. I will not know the reason for Peighton’s death this side of heaven but I do have peace.

I still can’t honestly say that I feel joy and can praise Him in the physical loss of Peighton but I can say that I believe in my very soul that God used it for my good. And, my dear sister, I can absolutely find joy and praise in that! I also find joy in knowing that I will one day embrace the child God blessed me with and later used to make way for healing.

I will praise You. Lord because I truly am fearfully and wonderfully made. You knew me before I entered my mother’s womb. You knew what I needed and You worked everything for my good. My soul knows very well that my heart needed mending and You used a tragic loss to help me to heal. Thank You Lord!

My dear, dear friend, do you have situations from your past that need to be uncovered? I encourage you to seek God and His wonderful healing powers. I now have joy when I think of Peighton due to God’s healing, grace, and mercy. He wants that for all of us. He wants us to draw near to Him so that we can have that joy in all situations. If you need help doing this, I would be honored to help you get started. Just message me!