(Originally posted on our former site on 11/7/2012)

On our last date night my husband took me to one of my favorite restaurants (Mimi's Cafe). They have an amazing brunch menu that I enjoy scouring over each time despite ordering the exact same thing, but by the time we had gotten there it was time for dinner. Which meant even more scouring as I was left with no idea as to what I would order.

As we looked through the menu I remember thinking I wanted one of everything but settled instead on an old favorite- Chicken Marsala. No one gets Chicken Marsala wrong.

We get our meals and mine was fantastic. Rich's, well, let's just say he looked down at his plate while poking his food and asked "What is this creep made out of?... Oh, I mean this crap?"

It took everything in me not to roll out of the booth from laughing so hard, "oh, you mean your CREPE?" I responded.

It is safe to say that my husband is not a foodie.

This is the same man who prefers boxed or packaged anything to homemade from scratch. Which is kind of the worst when you spend four hours on a cake one year that isn't any more appreciated than any other year, but also kind of the best when it is last minute and you need a quick go-to. It doesn't take much to make him happy, because honestly he couldn't tell you a crepe from a pancake if the ingredients were listed on his napkin. But you know who does, the cook. 

The one in the back that spends the entire night measuring and cooking and working with his ingredients knows just what to do to make a delicious meal. He knows how long it needs to be on the fire, and how long it needs to rest. He knows which fillings will compliment it, and which will make you sick.

And that's all that Rich needs to know. Because while he didn't know any of those details, he trusted that the cook did and that was good enough for him.

(Me, well I like to ask a million questions to try and replicate things on my own but that is a post for another time.)

A couple weeks ago we surprisingly found out that we were expecting a third little blessing. It was a shock to say the least but we were excited nonetheless. Then it came time for my 8 week check up appointment.

On Monday my doctor told me that she didn't see a baby. My body was pregnant she agreed but it could be a false pregnancy. My world was a little shaken by the news. She wanted to make sure and sent me for another appointment to the radiology office where an ultrasound showed a baby at 6 weeks (when my uterus was at 8 weeks) with no heartbeat.

I would love to say I held it together, and I did, until I got into my car. I sat there in the parking lot sobbing, not just begging but pleading with the Lord to do something. My husband so graciously met me by the back door when I arrived home and let me weep in his arms while I tried to gather my thoughts.

 

And then things changed.

One minute I am grieving the loss of a baby and the next my doctor calls to tell me that there is a small chance the baby could still be ok. Why would you do this to me?!

My bloodwork came back "positive" (whatever that means) and I had to set up an appointment for Monday to check to see if the baby has grown. I sit here a confused woman holding on to the glimmer of hope that this baby will be ok and I'm reminded of that date night.

You see, I don't know why things happen or how things will turn out, but I trust the One who is working it all together. That's what Romans 8:28 says that He "WORKS all things for our good". Flour by itself is NOT good, baking powder would make you sick, but I trust that the One putting them all together knows just how to WORK them and add the necessary ingredients to make a delicious crepe.

This is not a sob story, it is a story I wanted to share with all of you I consider friends and family. And if you can take anything from it, I hope you will remember this...

You won't always get the answer you hope for, you won't always understand, but you will ALWAYS be looked after to take every rotten situation and work it for your benefit.

So here I still sit. Confused. Saddened. Hopeful. Saying the same thing that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego did in Daniel chapter 3- My God will save me (come through for me , work a miracle for me) and even if He doesn't... I will still trust that this too will one day be worked for my good.  

Keep trusting my friends.  He hasn't forgotten about me and He will surely not forget about you.

 

UPDATE: Our sweet little baby was no more. We look forward to seeing him or her one day in Heaven where there will be no more crying or hate or hurt. Until then, we will continue to embrace and encourage others who have endured loss in their lives. Whether it is a loss of life, purpose, hope, or otherwise. Through it all, God is still faithful.

Proverbs 3:5 Lean on, trust in, and be confident in the Lord with all your heart and mind and do not rely on your own insight or understanding.

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