Isaiah Twenty Eight

...But the word of the LORD was unto them precept upon precept, precept upon precept; line upon line, line upon line; here a little, and there a little; that they might go, and fall backward, and be broken, and snared, and taken...

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Location: High Desert SW

I'm Vickie, 51, married since 1985. We have a grown son, born in 1986, and aside from two early miscarriages, were barren thereafter. That is until 2003, when we were miraculously expecting a baby girl. The pregnancy was wonderful & we were very excited to be so blessed. Sadly & preventably, Abigail died in utero the week of her due date thanks to a practice of outlandishly horrid medical providers masquerading as knowledgeable professionals. Consequently, I delivered her lifeless body on December 6, 2003 after 3 days of sorrowed labor. She may have been born still, but she was still born & is still loved. Long story short, we were blessed 16 months later with a 3rd miracle child. Anne came into the world on April 28, 2005 after yet another wonderful pregnancy. Sadly, it was discovered after her birth that she had a heart defect caused by trisomy 18. She died suddenly of congestive heart failure, just before midnight on June 28, 2005. Anne was 61derful days old when she left her mama's arms & went to rest in the Lord's. She was a wonderful sparkly child, who along with her siblings, are the subject of most of my writings, interests & hobbies.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Lessons in Falling Backward and Being Broken - John 12:24-25

I've heard it said from several pastoral teachings over the years that the primary difference between the Pharisees and the Sadducees was their belief in the Resurrection. The Pharisees believed in the Resurrection whereas the Sadducees did not--and that's why they were sad you see...

I was "born again" many years ago. I'd grown up in a Lutheran tradition, and Sunday school had been a way of life for most of my growing up years. But it wasn't until the early '90's when the Light of the Holy Spirit rested upon me and opened my heart. I hungered for the Word, and the Lutheran traditions that I had known left me literally starved for more of Him. I pursued Bible study like many pursue their PhD's. Truly I came to understand what the psalmist meant when he said, "taste and see that the Lord is good..." I was ravenous for the depth & purity of His Word without the maskings of a liberal church agenda. Lutherans don't study the Bible as much as they study books written by man about the Bible.

So we changed churches and I was baptized. Our Lutheran church had refused to do such a thing since I'd been baptized as a baby. That had been fine for my parents as a dedication, but now I was an adult and felt dramatically led to profess my own dedication to the Lord--just like Jesus had done in the Jordan. I became fervently involved with BSF for over a decade (Bible Study Fellowship, Intl., an interdenominational seven-year course of in-depth study). Their method of studying the Bible is one of the very best I've ever come across, and truly the Living Word of God came to life for me as I poured myself into each year-long study.

We were studying the history of Israel and the minor prophets the year I was pregnant with Abigail. Abigail got her name from that study--several of King David's relatives and one of his wives had that name. It was a common Hebrew name for a girl since it means "the father's joy." And truly she was our joy.

That joy has since turned to mourning as she was a corpse when I finally got to meet her. That profound weekend of "giving birth to death" brought the Scriptures to life in a way I'd never imagined. And tho a huge part of me died with her that weekend, another part of me was "born again" again. Never in all my life of Sunday school, Bible study or church attendance was I prepared to meet Adam's Curse face to face. Never in all my life had my need for a Saviour, a Rescuer, a Redeemer ever been so necessary. I'd never been so sorry about anything in my entire life as when I embraced her lifeless body. My flesh had failed her; my doctors had failed her; Adam's Curse had inflicted itself upon her and I was powerless to stop it or fix it. Only He could make such wrong right again, and planting her boxed up body in the cold frozen ground made Resurrection take on a whole deeper reality.

Since then, I've come to know the graveside quite intimately. Adam's Curse took my next daughter too--a totally different medical reason; the lottery's luck of a double-strike of lightening that none of us saw coming. The journey of giving my children back to the Giver has wrought with it no small amount of anguish. In fact, many parts of this scurged life have been sheer torture as I struggle through the grief. But praise God, I am not like the Sadducees...

For years, I've collected crowns: vintage brooches mostly. They represent cheap taudry examples of the awesome crowns we will inherit when we sit with Jesus at His Right Hand. I also have a crown of thorns, much like the one the soldiers plaited for Jesus as He stood trial before Pilate. My experiences with my babies deaths have brought to life that we must first wear our crown of thorns before we can wear our crowns of glory. There is a reason why the Church refers to the Passover slaughter of our Lord as "Good" Friday. It is "good" that we have this life stripped from us; it is "good" that we have our hearts focused heavenward--that where our treasure is there our hearts will be also...


John 12:24-25
Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die , it abideth alone: but if it die , it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal. KJV



It was Passover 2005 that we got the finishing touches done on the nursery. Abigail's crib had been in our storage shed waiting for such a moment as when we could rejoice in another baby coming into our lives. We spoke of the hope that we had when we put the crib away, and if we ever imagined we would ever know such happiness as putting it up again. We prayed over the crib and the nursery area; dedicating baby Anne to God and asking Him to prevent the Angel of Death from coming to us again; we prayed specifically that death would pass over our home. We asked for His favor and goodness as we welcomed our new baby into our lives. We prayed over her clothes--things that had been for Abigail; things that were new just for her. We took pictures of her special nursery area, and then we took pictures of ourselves--commemorating the final days of my round pregnant body. We loved her intensely; we loved Abigail and her absent presence. We wept for the love & hope that we longed for the Lord to restore to us. Little did we know what the Lord had planned for us just a handful of days later...

Truly I am grateful that the Lord took me through all those years of Bible studies before He took me to the cemetery--all those years of book learning put into real life application... It's been hard; very hard. But the profoundness of the journey has been astounding; and to be certain, I cannot fault Him for giving me such a plethora of gifts.

This Passover and Resurrection season I've been very sad, but the promise of Resurrection gave rejoicing to my sorrowed heart. It is Adam's Curse that makes me sad; beholding it up-close & personal has been beyond agonizing. But Messiah's Victory makes me very very glad. Thank you Lord, for your all-sufficient grace...

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