Whiplash is a word I’ve used more than once when describing the emotions I often go through as a pastor.
Yesterday was a difficult day. I apologize in advance for the length of this post, but I need to write this now more than you need to read it, so please bear with me. Let me give you a little back story to help you understand.
Over the course of the past 2 years Brandi and I have had two sets of friends who have experienced the loss of a baby. Todd and Angie Smith who lost their baby after 2 hours of life and Mike and Holly Phelps who lost their baby late in their first pregnancy.
I can’t even begin to imagine the heavy heartache and deep loss they went through. And while getting pregnant again doesn’t take a way that pain, you can imagine how excited I was to hear that both couples were once again pregnant.
While each couple faced their own unique challenges, they were both on track to have healthy babies. I couldn’t help but think of what a bitter sweet experience it would be for both of them. A glimmer of hope in the midst of the darkness they’ve been walking through.
In the early hours of yesterday morning, in hospitals just two blocks away from each other, both couples had an pre-term delivery.
Yesterday morning I walked into two different hospital rooms. Both scenes could not have been more similar and yet more different.
Both rooms had moms who were laying in hospital beds. Both rooms had dads who were right by the bed holding and rocking a tiny infant.
However, the similarities end there as one baby was breathing and the other was not.
Todd and Angie’s room was full of prayers, crying and pure joy. There was life.
Mike and Holly’s room was full of prayers and crying, but no joy. No life.
The whole way to the Phelp’s room I cried. I knew the situation I was walking into. I cried out to God…
How could this happen to them again?
Why God, would you allow this family to endure this pain yet again?
Haven’t they been through enough?
Why God?
I’ve been criticized in certain circles for writing a book called Plan B, which is about God, crisis and pain. A book that clearly states I don’t think there are answers to all of life’s questions and complexities.
I dare any one of those critics to stand in the room with this young couple and even try to answer all of the questions they had yesterday as they sit there holding their lifeless child.
I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this as a pastor, but I’m going to anyway… Isn’t it amazing how in a moment like that you so desperately want God near, but at the same time you also feel secretly mad at Him?
Reality for Christians often means we have more questions than we do answers.
Reality is sometimes lacking the faith that will give us a sustained hope.
Reality is even though we know God is with us sometimes we feel completely alone.
Reality is even though we believe, we also doubt.
There’s a big difference between trust and understanding. They say trust is what we need when we don’t have understanding. So today I’m praying for trust. A big, huge, helping of trust.
It’s funny but the final paragraph of Plan B 
says,
I’m asking you to trust that one day faith will win over doubt, that light will win over darkness, love will win over hate, and all things will one day be redeemed. I’m asking you, right in the middle of your Plan B pain, to trust this process that is going on in your life.
I never knew when I wrote those words how much I would need them on a day like today.
