Acceptance with Joy

…for He makes His sun rise on the evil and good, and sends rain on the just and unjust. Matthew 5:45b

I could reason with this scripture before the downpour in my own life. After losing my baby girl I had a choice to make: could I still trust the goodness of the One who had given her to me and then taken her back so quickly?


It had been about 5 weeks since Rebecca’s death when my husband and I took our boys away for some time together as a family. We chose to escape to the desert of New Mexico and visit Ron’s dad where there was few people and many amazing terrains. Quiet, lonely places that are full of beauty have a way of allowing the human heart to hear God’s voice; and that is what we needed. Desperately.

One day we set out on a hike as a family and found ourselves alone as a couple. We were standing at the edge of a dry gorge in awe of it’s depth and beauty. Rushing waters had once run through this place–like the joy that once filled our hearts–but both were all dried up now. Knowing our boys were enjoying their Gandpa-time, we took a moment to share our hearts as grieving parents. Like the canyon below us, it seemed impossible that we could ever be full again. We each wanted to feel joy again, at least for our boys’ sake, we just didn’t know how. We whispered a little prayer requesting strength to go on.

When we make a request known to God, we should certainly wait and listen–especially during a precious moment like that, but  we had to get back to our responsibilities, so we turned to leave. That’s when II noticed a little flower at my feet and bust into tears.

I had been reading Hinds Feet in High Places and was feeling a lot like the character, Much-Afraid, who also found a flower in the desert place named Acceptance-with-Joy.

God was whispering to my heart. “Will you accept your circumstances as they are and trust Me to make it beautiful in my time?” It was as though the only speck of color in the bounty of sand was challenging me to accept the pain we were enduring like we would accept a flower.

After explaining my tears to my husband, he picked the flower for me and suddenly we both felt a sweet and subtle blossom break way in the dry soil of our hearts–Acceptance-with-Joy.


For more stories of the things God taught us during our daughter’s quick and powerful life, please find my books on Amazon, especially: Footprints Through the Sand: a Consolidation of Life-altering stories about Loving and Losing a Trisomy-18 Baby.