Aimee Jones Faith-Based Encouragement, Parenting After Loss

Good Gifts

The first weeks after Ginny was stillborn, the grief was so heavy and all consuming that we just wanted to run away from it. We had to get out of our townhouse where everything happened and where her nursery was glaring at us from across the hall. Daniel and I decided to get away for a day trip to Asheville NC, a few hours away in the mountains. We had been wanting to visit the North Carolina Arboretum which we heard was beautiful. We thought being in nature and in a new cool town would give us a little break from our grief. We quickly learned how wrong we were. It’s impossible to run away from your grief. It follows you everywhere. I remember feeling so disappointed. We walked through the arboretum, but as it was mid March, spring had not yet sprung and most trees were still bare. We saw the potential for such beautiful gardens but the winter struck barrenness. We felt cold and heartbroken. I remember crying in a booth at a restaurant during lunch. Food still had no taste to me. Would we ever have fun again? Would anything be good again? We had the realization that not only could we not run away from our grief but new environments shone the grief in different and painful light. Every new experience was an experience without Ginny. It was something she’d never get to do and we’d never get to do with her. Life felt ruined. It felt like all our blessings had turned to curses. We left Asheville exhausted and a little bitter. 

Hope would seep in slowly over the next year, starting when we had friends over for St Patrick’s Day just a few days later. Little by little sparks of fun would distract from the grief only seconds at a time. Eventually we would master the ability to live in balance between joy and sorrow. Both feelings weaved in every day and every experience. With the arrival of Chet and Addie, joy and laughter flooded our days. We would in fact have fun again. We would be given good gifts again. And it would all still be blended with grief. 

This year is Daniel and my 15 year wedding anniversary. We decided to celebrate with a night away to Asheville, NC, now only 1 hr and 20 min from our home in South Carolina. My sister and brother in law graciously offered to watch the kids. 

We drove straight to the NC Arboretum. As we entered we were greeted by luscious greenery everywhere we looked. Flowers were blooming and butterflies were fluttering. Life was everywhere! Of course there were plenty of sunflowers shining up at us. The dormancy of winter had given way to the fruitfulness of June. It was such a reflection of our full lives. We walked hand in hand through the gardens and we talked about all three of our kids. We talked about how badly we missed Ginny. This was such a full circle moment. We sat on a pair of wooden rocking chairs and looked up through bright green leaves that seemed to shimmer in the breeze. And I felt God’s love. And I took in God’s good gifts. And I was blessed. 

This is not a story of how God answered our prayers or gave us what we wanted. This is a story of God bringing us through a dark time into the light again. This is about hope that doesn’t ask you to leave your grief behind in order to experience happiness, but rather carries your grief along with you to ease your burden while you receive all God is giving you. And He still does give good gifts.

Aimee Jones Faith-Based Encouragement

He Holds On Still

When I was in high school I worked at a dry cleaners. I was one of the few kids with a class schedule loaded with AP courses while also working more than 20 hours a week. It wasn’t as hard as it sounds though, because I worked at a slow pick-up/drop-off location by myself. I had hours a day in a quiet room alone to work on my homework. In fact I had more than enough time for my homework. I thank God that smart phones weren’t a thing yet, because I filled the time with reading, listening to indie CDs, and just sitting and thinking. All those AP classes really got me thinking. I thought of history and literature and physics and problem solving and how it all was the limited ways we perceive what’s going on in this mysterious universe we find ourselves in. My teachers encouraged me to think in new ways and ask a lot of questions. As my 17 year old mind filled with so many questions and had no Google access, I turned to creator and keeper of all the answers – God. I prayed all my ideas and questions and doubts. I listened intently. It was fruitful; God answered in many different beautiful ways – and oftentimes with more questions. I felt in awe of God, His creation, and all the mystery. I felt His unconditional love for me and my friends. I loved the searching, and I promised to never stop. I remember one prayer so vividly – I prayed that no matter where my doubts and questions took me, no matter what ideas I contemplated, that He would hold my faith and lead me closer to truth. I was His, and I believed that as I held on to everything loosely, He would hold onto me firmly. 

And He did. He held on as I graduated high school and went on to college. He held on as I got too busy to sit and think. He held on while I stopped journalling and stopped questioning. He held on while I got more interested in achieving than searching. He held on while I entered the workforce. He held on while I was too tired to stand in awe. He held on while I thought of my faith as a checklist and my prayers became a wishlist. He held on while I ignored every prompting of something more. He held on while my view of Him went from busting big past the drawn-in lines of childhood to melting down between the constructs of individualism and performance of early adulthood. He held on as our time together shrunk in whatever was left between endless work meetings and binge watching TV. 

That’s about where we were when I got pregnant with Ginny. Although planned, the pregnancy itself shook me to my core, and anxiety forced me to quit my job and rearrange my entire life. So when Ginny died in my womb at 35 weeks, I truly wondered whether my faith would be strong enough to endure. I knew this was the kind of thing that could break people and could make them turn from everything they once believed. But God very quickly reminded me of my prayer from over a decade earlier. He would hold my faith. While I was only hanging on loosely, he would hold onto me firmly. As I called out to Him, he immediately covered me with comfort and strength and so so so much love. It was painful and terrible and incredibly difficult, but I was not alone. He walked with me through the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23). He is the perfecter of faith (Hebrews 12:2). 

In the months following Ginny’s death, I found myself with a lot of empty time. I didn’t have a job so I spent hours a day reading, listening to indie albums, and just sitting and thinking…again. All my grief really got me thinking and questioning and doubting. And even though I did do my fair share of Googling this time, I once again asked the creator and keeper of all answers – God. And again it was fruitful. I got many answers and many more questions. The loss made me lose so many faith assumptions I carried. My beliefs shifted, but yet I still stood in awe and I felt his unconditional love. 

With two living children, I do not have the same empty time as I did almost 7 years ago. But God has opened my eyes to His presence in the playtimes and sleepless nights of middle age motherhood. Turns out, it’s not as hard to find Jesus in loving servitude as it is in selfish ambition (not too surprising I guess). My beliefs are still shifting. The awe-striking questions and doubts and answers keep on coming, but instead of praying in a quiet room by myself, I’m praying while gathering snacks in a LOUD kitchen or if I’m lucky, to the buzz of the monitor during nap time. And while I don’t have control and am forced to hold to all I have and know loosely, He holds on still. 

Aimee Jones Faith-Based Encouragement, Parenting After Loss

“Will Jesus let me fall?”

Why is it always at the most random and unexpected times that 4 year olds ask profound questions? Out of the blue in a dramatic shift in conversation, Chet called out from his 5-point harness carseat, “Will Jesus let me fall?” In a split second, I had to fight back the urge to respond in the way that would provide the most immediate comfort. I wanted to say, “If you trust in Jesus, He will never let you fall! He loves you and will always protect you and keep you safe from harm.”  I refrained. Instead I quickly searched my brain through what I remembered of the half-read book about answering kids’ faith questions that was resting on my dresser. I remembered nothing… “Uh yes Jesus may let you fall, but He will be with you and will comfort you when you do.” I held my breath for what his reaction would be. He changed topics again, probably requesting to listen to “Truckaroo” from the Cars 3 soundtrack. I hope I navigated that ok. I always want to tell my kids the truth, and the truth is that when your legs and feet are growing at the rate Chet’s are, you will definitely fall. And when he does fall, I only want his knees to be scraped, not his faith in Jesus or trust in my words. 

It was 5 years earlier during the ultrasound when the doctor confirmed with the words, “I have to tell you the worst news” that I began to realized that Jesus would actually let me fall. I was free falling. I’m not sure the precise moment when I crashed to the ground, but I do know I felt like I was skidding against pavement for the long time. Ginny, my first and only child at that time, had died. And because I believed in a sovereign God who controls life and death, I knew He let her die. I knew He was letting me suffer. I cried out to God many, many times, and He met me in the darkness many, many times. At first it was in the form of His real and palpable presence. It brought peace in moments where there should have been none. Then He met me through the listening ears and sweet words of friends. Then He met me through His Word. 

Prior to Ginny’s death, I thought that if I had faith enough and prayed hard enough and trusted God enough, I wouldn’t have to face this kind of sorrow. I maybe wouldn’t have said it out loud, but in my heart I thought that because Jesus loved me He would give me a happy and comfortable life. It was wishful thinking disguised as faith. I read the Bible, but I read it blindly. I was blinded by assumptions engrained so deep I confused them for obvious fact. I looked but did not perceive and listened but did not understand (Mark 4:12). Everyone has biases when they read anything, including the Bible. Now that my eyes have been opened to the fact that faithful believers do experience suffering, I see it everywhere in the Bible. How could I have missed such an important part? 

Jesus is the center of it all, and He is known as the Man of Sorrows. Christ suffered through temptation, loss, betrayal, and death. Although Jesus suffered on our behalf, that doesn’t mean that we will not also suffer on this side of heaven. If He suffered, we as His followers will also suffer (John 15:20).  We are not immune to the hardships of a messed up world (2 Timothy 3:12). But when we suffer, we know we are not alone. Jesus is with us; He truly understands (Hebrews 4:14-16). We are given peace that transcends understanding (Philippians 4:7). Jesus even blessed those who go through life’s challenges in His most famous sermon (Matthew 5:3-10). Jesus did NOT say “Blessed are the faithful, for they will never mourn.” Instead Jesus did say, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” 

The entire Bible is full of stories of God followers who faced hardship and examples of what to do when we feel betrayed by God. We are invited to bring that betrayal, anger, questions, pain, disappointment to God. God doesn’t just tolerate our grievances; He encourages us to bring them to Him. At least 30% of the Psalms are songs of lament. Even from the cross Jesus cried, “My God, why have you forsaken me?!” God’s chosen nation of the Old Testament is named after “one who wrestles with God”. Faith does not mean denying any doubts or confusion; faith means not being afraid to face them with God. And God shows up! 

Just as we see throughout the Bible, when someone encounters suffering, they are not left unchanged. God uses our suffering to bring transformation in our hearts and lives. He reveals truths. He builds our character and hope. That’s exactly what happened and continues to happen to me in my grief. Patient and hopeful endurance is something that takes time and pain to develop, but it is vital for a Jesus follower and ultimately a gift from God. This suffering comes alongside abundant love, joy, and hope (as well as lots of protection, provisions, healing, blessings, favor). It is all part of the full life we are promised as Christians (John 10:10); we get it all. If Jesus does let you fall, remember this time of hardship is only temporary. We are also promised a future of eternal life with no mourning, crying, or pain (Revelation 21:3-4). 

“When I thought, ‘My foot slips,’ Your steadfast love, O Lord, helped me up.” Psalm 94:18

“Yet if any of you suffers as a Christian, do not consider it a disgrace, but glorify God because you bear this name.” 1 Peter 4:16 

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 5:3

“My brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing.” James 1:2