Sometimes you find something you really love, and you're not sure why you love it, but you just do. In my sophomore year of college I was taking a course on 17th Century English literature, and I happened upon the following poem in my "textbook" by George Herbert (written in 1633).
It was instantly my favorite poem. I didn't know exactly why. I had been in crisis situations before--situations that should have tested everything in my faith and in my being--and had felt that which is expressed in this poem. Yet, when the moment came in my life that I really felt what is in these words, I knew I had never really felt them before. Never. Never before in this way. For I had never had an affliction this great, never a heart so broken.
Four months ago, I was pregnant. And then I wasn't. The nightmare of my life began.
And I knew, sitting in the doctor's office, hearing him tell me there wasn't a heartbeat, that my life was over as I had known it. When my baby died, my old self died too--which was, perhaps, a part of why God allowed this affliction--and I would have a long, dark road before me.
Over four months I have felt so many things. Things of which I am very proud, and things of which I am not. But over them all, I am yet convinced that the Lord is Jesu.