He Has a Purpose


It’s another sick day at the Hahn household.

I’m having a love/hate relationship with the sickies.  On one hand I’m tired of coughing all night, I’m tired of being tired, I’m tired of being cooped up.  On the other hand, it gives me a perfect excuse to remain in the bubble I put myself in ever since my doctors appointment almost 2 weeks ago.

I realized that I’ve only seen a very, very small handful of people since all of this happened.  It’s unusual for me to not be out and about, meeting up with friends, being social and involved – but I feel fragile still.  Like I’m walking around with a big open wound and exposure to the air itself stings.

Life will be moving along fine and then suddenly I am dissolving into tears over little things.  Nighttime is the worst – when the kids are asleep, the world is quiet and my husband is breathing deeply beside me…it doesn’t seem to matter how exhausted I am.  I stare into the darkness and think about the little one we’ll never meet in this lifetime.

Last night I was scrolling through Facebook pictures and came across some of me while I was pregnant with Beckett and was overcome with sadness that I didn’t get to experience that with this baby.  I felt guilty remembering all the times I complained about the way pregnancy changed my body, or the discomfort I felt with each passing month.  I would give anything to feel those things again now, to watch my belly grow, to feel the jabs and kicks in my ribs that take my breath away.

The other day I was driving in the car with the kids and a song came on the radio that I’d never heard before (not unusual these days, which I think means I’m getting old…)  One of the lines jumped out at me and with a little help from Shazam, I downloaded the song.  

The song is Home by Philip Phillips (who, apparently, is an American Idol or something – again I guess I’m old for not knowing but truth is I hate that show…)

Hold on, to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home
Settle down, it’ll all be clear
Don’t pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found


I remind myself often, “Don’t pay no mind to the demons, they fill you with fear…”  I find myself feeling so out of control lately.  Realizing for maybe the first time ever just how little control I have over life.  I found myself in tears after leaving the pediatrician’s office last week – Beckett was sick and even though I’m usually the Mom who waits TOO long before seeking out a doctor, this felt different.  I was seized with irrational fear about what might be wrong with him, and with the knowledge that I can’t always control the well being of my own children.  If I couldn’t protect the one who lived inside of me, how will I keep the children I have safe?  (Beckett was fine, by the way.  Just a cold that has since been passed to me…)

I know deep down I can’t live that way – I have to trust God to carry out His plan how He sees fit.  And I have to know with every part of who I am that He is GOOD.  Reminding myself of Romans 8:28, “I know He has purpose in even the things I cannot understand”  It is hard.  This experience has taught me how fragile life is – how poorly I’ve handled other people’s grief in the past.  It’s taught me how little I knew about grief in general.  It’s taught me that you can be going along happily on your own little path and suddenly your world just gets rocked to its core.  It’s taught me how much I need my relationship with God to be as strong as it can be, at all times and not just in sorrow.  

And I know this experience will continue to teach me things and I will continue to learn and grow from it.  And it WILL be ok, even if I can’t see the light right now.  Even if I spend the rest of my life not knowing or understanding why this child was taken away from us all too soon, I will know “He has a purpose in even the things I cannot understand.”

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8 thoughts on “He Has a Purpose”

  1. How well I know “the demons that can strike in the dark”….I'm so sorry that you, as well, have had to make their acquaintance. When I was lying awake one night…filled with fear…I got up and decided to read my Bible. I opened the book and there it was, it literally JUMPED off the page at me: Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans that I have for you, declares the LORD. They are plans for peace and not disaster, plans to give you a future filled with hope.”

    A thousand people have probably told you that “it will take time” “relax, just give it time” “these things take time”….BUT…if you're impatient like me…if you're a “doubter” and “fearful” like me….you want to tell them all to just SHUT UP!! Hang onto 29:11. Some days (and some nights) all I could DO was just repeat to myself “29:11….29:11…..29:11…29….11”

    I'm sending you love….I'm sending you hope…and I'm sending you some peace…but you don't need to unwrap that last part until YOU are ready…just remember…29:11

  2. Thank you for being so real. For allowing yourself to be true to your feelings and emotions. And for being brave enough to share them with us. Grief is real. And I don't think there are many of us that haven't experienced it in some way or form. It is so refreshing to hear that it DOES sometimes rock your world to the core. That it can fill you with fear and make you want to hide out. But that it's also when we need a strong, foundation of faith. One that is not circumstanial but relational. We have a loving God that is purposeful and powerful. He sees the eternal picture. And He is carrying you through this. So glad you have that truth to hold onto. Love you!

  3. Miranda – I've been praying for you and your family every single day. I love that you're so open and honest about everything that God has allowed you to go through and your experience is going to be used to help others that are, have, or will go through the same thing. You may not feel strong, but you are!!!

  4. ((HUGS)) The world is so different now, isn't it? I remember feeling like the floors had fallen out from under my feet, and I was falling and didn't know where I was and where I would end up. When you are ready, read through the stages of grief, like this one: http://grief.com/the-five-stages-of-grief/ It helped me realize that what I was feeling was normal and was helping me heal, especially once the numbness wore off and the anger kicked in. I'm glad you are sharing your story so you don't mourn alone, because the anger can swallow you if you try to go through it by yourself. This will change you forever, and it can make you a stronger person, once you learn to live with the pain. For now, though, when there there are no answers and just sorrow, it just sucks, for lack of a better word. 😦 Hang in there…

  5. Yes, that's it exactly – the world is so different now. On a forum I'm a part of someone said they felt angry because they were no longer naive. I can totally understand that – this new part of my life took a piece of innocence from me, and it does make the world very different. I will definitely check out the 5 stages of grief. Thank you!

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