The first day of spring – a day that is supposed to signify renewal and life and hope was one of the darkest, deadest, most hopeless days of my whole life.
The pain was so deep, and still is. But that day marked more than the death of my baby. That day marked a shift in my whole outlook. That day I realized there was something much worse than not getting pregnant. That day I completely surrendered the plans and dreams I had for my family. I couldn't have possibly known what God knew.
God knew that seven and a half months later (only weeks after the due date of our baby) we would be bringing Jackson home. My son was already in existence on March 21st. God knew my son still had a heartbeat, but that it just wasn't beating in my body.
God knew that exactly 3 years to the day I would write in my journal that a birth mother expecting a baby boy in less than a month had chosen us to adopt her son.
God does not waste anything. He can bring good from even the most painful situations. I'm reminded of that every time I look into the faces of my children. Those broken places are where HIS grace is. That loss may be unfulfilled. It may be unrestored. But when anything that's shattered is laid before the Lord, it WILL NOT be unredeemed.