Magnifying the Lord in our Suffering

When we first found out we were pregnant a little after Christmas time, I couldn't get Chris Tomlin's song, "My Soul Magnifies the Lord" out of my head. I felt like I was singing it with all of creation... that I understood Mary's song for the first time in my life. Chris Tomlin was singing it with me, the band played it loud and upbeat. We were having a baby. We were overjoyed, and my soul "magnifies the Lord. He has done great things for me."

But when we went for our 12-week check-up today, there was no heartbeat. The baby had stopped growing at 9 weeks, and we were talking about the options. I found myself laying flat on my back, staring up at the tiled ceiling, hot tears rolling straight down from the corners of my eyes. I turned away to watch John as he watched the doctor confirm our fear with another sonogram. No life showed on the screen. He held my hand, and the hot tears blurred my vision.

And then we were home, and I was standing over my young tomato plants, hands dirty with soil, coaxing them, begging them to perk back up after being beaten by the rain. But I knew what I was really begging for was that our baby would wake up, that our hopes would resurrect, that our hearts would be whole.

And standing there in the rain, the song came back to me. Not as an upbeat song of praise, but as a slow, rolling comfort. "My soul, my soul, magnifies the Lord. He has done great things for me, great things for me." And I was no longer singing it loudly with all of creation. I was alone, preaching it to myself. Reminding myself of his goodness. His faithfulness. His great grace.

And I went back and replayed the song, "Unto you a child is born/ Unto us a Son is given/ Let every heart prepare his throne/ let every nation under heaven/ come and worship/ do not be afraid."

What drives out the fear of broken hearts and crushed dreams? Worship. Christ in his proper place, as ruler of my heart. My heart, his throne. And how can I not offer that to him, even in our pain? Haven't I found him to be faithful and good and true time after time? He has done great things for me, and these things I must call to mind.

But there is more... the promise.

Of his government/ there will be no end/ He'll establish it /with his righteousness/ and he shall reign/ on David's throne/ and his name shall be/ from this day on /Wonderful Counselor/ Everlasting Father.

This is our greatest hope of all. That the perfect kingdom is here and is coming. The brokenness and pain we experience will be turned to diamonds, developed through the refining compress of faith and suffering. Our king will be among us. He will reign forever. Our souls will be overjoyed. We will once again sing with joy in our hearts, and it will never be taken away from us.

Three weeks ago, our baby got to experience the very thing we long for here-- the physical presence of Jesus in all his glory. The family that John and I began with our union is already represented in heaven. We've already been able to add to the kingdom. What other response can I give but, "My soul magnifies the Lord. He has done great things for me"?

But as I preach this song to myself, I realize that I don't sing it alone. The Bible is full of people who experienced longing and loss, and could only hope for things that they never saw materialize... and all of this was credited to them as righteousness. They stand with me, singing this song with me. They understand, and our sweet baby is with them. Glory to God in the highest.