Thursday, July 21, 2011

Rain

Wow. This is embarrassing! This poor blog has certainly not been a priority lately. I'm still thinking of posts, finding I have a lot to say, but nothing to say. I want to write things perfectly, but can't figure out the right words. Some of my thoughts are worthwhile, but most of them are forgettable.

I did write something lately, requested by Jason's uncle Lloyd, to be read at our Kauffman reunion at Bethel Camp in Kentucky. Other than having to publicly read something I wrote, I had a great time catching up with uncles, aunts and cousins, meeting their kids and eating fabulous food from the camp kitchen. Here it is:

Wednesday I was outside, huge Tupperware bowl at my feet, picking blueberries as fast as I could. Suddenly storm clouds covered the sun, thunder sounded in the distance and a cold wind whipped through the trees. The blueberries danced out of reach. I grabbed onto leaves, fiercely determined to steady the waving branches, angry at the timing of the weather and angry at the thought of losing blueberries to yet another rainless storm.

It had been so dry for so long. When our regional summer weather pattern of localized pop-up afternoon thunderstorms had begun, it was our fields, our property, that got missed. Hope would arrive in the shape of cumulonimbus clouds, but it was others around who reported their relieved joy, measured quantifiably in tenths of inches. After a time, I felt my heart hardening each time the sky darkened. Certainly we had been praying for rain. Certainly it seemed our request fell on uncaring ears. "God, have you forgotten us?!" I had to ask, knowing the truth, but feeling something different. I wanted to leave when the storms blew up. I wanted to drive somewhere, anywhere, so I wouldn't have to be home when the clouds left our property rainless.

We want to protect ourselves against physical disaster, and to some extent we can. We wear seatbelts. We eat our vegetables. We own insurance policies, for crying out loud. But if only there were some kind of emotional insurance, to protect our hearts from being damaged or shattered. We live to please God. We make choices to honor Him. We expect His blessings, but we don't expect His blessings to come in a package of pain. Ironically, James says, "Consider it pure joy...whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."

The evening of the blueberry picking did end in rain. I was thankful, but in a begrudging sort of way. I felt like the spoiled child who had pitched a fit, manipulated parents, gotten what she wanted and then not enjoyed the undeserved result.

I felt guilty because I had been refusing the trial of drought. Instead of embracing God through my fear and receiving joy in His truths, I was choosing bitterness and hardheartedness.

The truth is, that even if the farm dries up and all is lost, God will still be in control. He will still be available. His presence is far more important than our present circumstances, though He cares about the details of our lives. The far greater tragedy would be success on the farm and loss of access to Him.

_____

We traveled to northern Indiana, my home area, after our reunion. While we were there, it rained buckets back home, so much so that Jason and all his farmer friends joked that we should have left a long time ago.

When I wrote this, there was more than weather on my mind. We are expecting another baby, due January 6th! While we are incredibly excited about the pregnancy, we are also scared out of our minds that it will once again end with no baby in our arms. I wish there were some way to protect our hearts from being smashed to bits. But as one of Jason's cousins articulated, "It's the risk you take by choosing to love."

One thing of which I am particularly fearful is that people might think we have moved on from our loss, and this is our replacement for Quinn, and that everything is neat and tidy in our emotional lives by now. Just the thought of that makes me so angry, and it's one reason I've delayed announcing my pregnancy. So please pray for us as we choose to love this baby, no matter what the outcome may be. We are choosing to trust God, our perfect Father, who has perfect knowledge and perfect love for us.

10 comments:

Carrie said...

Love you, Joyce Bontrager Weber. Also loved this post.

Ashley said...

Thanks for sharing this, Joyce. I really enjoyed it & will continue to pray for you guys.

Anonymous said...

I am so glad you wrote...was really worried about where you had gone and i missed you...Joanne

Deb said...

Congratulations on the new life and know that I, for one, will not forget Quinn.

Jen Bontrager said...

Congratulations, Joyce! I had heard through the grapevine, but was waiting on this post. Quinn will always be your fourth child. I have her birth announcement on the side of my fridge to prove it. It will serve as my reminder to pray for all of you . . . especially #5.

Anonymous said...

Love you guys :) Much in our prayers & Quinn and Josiah will NEVER be forgotten or replaced. They are still with us & just waiting on us to finish the race God has set for us. Melissa & Family

Grandma Ruby said...

Yesterday someone asked how many grandchildren we have. Dad answered, "Twelve." I wasn't sure what he would say and was so glad to hear his answer. I've been thinking of Quinn a lot lately, especially since seeing her photo album when you were home. My heart longs to see her. We also rejoice in the new little one you carry. All our grands are grand! Funny how there is always enough love for all of them. Love you!

shaunjoy said...

Congratulations on your pregnancy! Hope you're getting past the icky, no-energy stage.

Melissa said...

oh I'm so happy for you, and excited for your new bundle of love! blessings ...

Rustin and Lynette Polinder said...

You said so many good things in this post. I will be praying for you as you carry this little one. Quinn will never be forgotten. I'm due January 2nd, so our little ones are about the same size. Praying for lots of peace as we walk this journey again.