On anniversaries

‘He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning, or crying or pain, for the older order of things has passed away.’

Revelations 21: 4

Sometimes anniversaries are happy and joyful times, like birthdays or wedding anniversaries; but sometimes they can also be hard…

Like anniversaries of a loved one’s death, or a first anniversary after a divorce, or a recent widowhood.

As I write this today, it’s the first anniversary date of our last miscarriage.

Since then there’s been lots of tests, waiting, hospital consultants, pausing ttc, resuming ttc again, tears and frustration, and lots of wondering if we’ll ever become parents again.

In many ways today is just a pretty normal day. But it’s also a day full of reflections on what might have been as well…

Memories left unmade, dreams left unfulfilled, and siblings that will never be.

Back then, in May 2018, before the miscarriage happened, the world felt so different to me; so much less broken and unfair, and so much more full of hope.

But now, the future that hangs over me feels slightly less certain, and the present that we live in feels slightly more bittersweet.

I am really not someone who looks back over their shoulder a lot of the time, always focusing on what might have been, or dwelling on past regrets. That is not my thing. I’m much more of an ‘in the future’ type.

And most of the time I am okay with what happened. And with what is still unfolding too.

I know that God is still sovereign, and I trust that He’s still in control. But today I think that it’s okay to pause and remember for a moment too.

Because when it hurts, of course we can hold onto His firm and sure promise that one day all sorrow and death and pain will pass away. But that doesn’t make the grief we feel any less real.

But perhaps more than anything else, today is a reminder that we are still living between two different kingdoms, in the tension between the ‘now’ and the ‘not yet’.

And perhaps, more than anything else, it leaves a longing in me, which reminds me of how this world is not my ultimate home.


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