When I first created the name for this blog, Lori-in*HIS*hands, I was still wrestling with actually feeling like I was individually cared for a God that created everything. Almost 8 years later, I can say I feel like God is personally invested in my life, yearns to spend one-on-one time with me in our favorite spot, and that he tells me things, he shares secrets with me, he gives me personal insight, and sometimes he tells me things that are inconsequential, but I know it's proof he's right there with me in even the mundane moments.
Yet. Just over a week ago, I felt like I was anywhere but in the safe, caring hands of my Father. I had begged him not to let it happen. For a few days, that's the last thing I had said to him, because I didn't know what else to say. Where could I go from a request that meant life or death, that didn't get answered the way I wanted it to? I felt instant distance. But I knew I had crawled out of his hands, I could feel him trying to draw me back to him, and I wouldn't.
Then, he gave me a song. At our small group the very next day our friend was doing worship and she played this song.
Then, the next day, Friday, we opened up to share it as a prayer request and the leader who prayed for us said something like, 'God, this little one is now in your hands, who you knew before they were in Lori's womb.'
On Sunday, during worship, God showed me a picture of him holding me at that moment I was begging him not to take away my baby. How he was holding me, and the baby, and just weeping with a broken heart for me.
Then on Tuesday, a particularly anxiety filled day for me, I decided to try aroma therapy to calm myself, I bought some lavender chamomile foam bubbles for a bath later that night. Right before I was about to go get in my bath, my dear friend stumbled across this anointing oil on a website, Scents of Heaven, and sent this link to me. I can't begin to tell you how my heart leaped in my chest. An anointing oil, scented with lavender, called 'In His Hands' whose history came about when a lady had a miscarriage. On the same day I was obsessed with aromatherapy.
Then, last night, at small group again, we were doing some listening prayer. I was leading us through something similar done just about exactly a year before at our Church. It was in fact that journey of listening prayer that led me to God's promise for children. I shared this experience and the journey, then we all invited God to reveal a place he wanted to take us. God took me to heaven and showed me my baby being held by an angel, it took me a few moments, but then I realized that exact picture I had seen before. I had seen it almost a year and a half ago, in a dream. This dream.
I may have crawled out of God's hands but he would not let me stay there. He kept pursuing me to draw close to him again, heaping upon me proof that he has me, and my babies (all of 5 of them), in his hands. Showing me how he feels what I feel, the sadness, the grief, and it felt even deeper than my own. Then, heaping upon me the love of those around me, to pour out his love on his behalf. There are many, many, many other things he has revealed to me, blessed me with, promised me in the last few days that erase all doubts, there is no question how tenderly and tightly he is holding on to me in his hands. I am almost to a point, it is getting hard to grieve because of all the good that he has brought out of this. Yet I know he wants me to mourn as I need, and he wants to hold me and comfort me.