When Hearts Bleed

Jumbled thoughts and emotions crash through my mind as I sit silently in the car, reflecting on the events of the week. Life. New life in the form of a 6-pound newborn we visit in a cramped apartment with a couple struggling to make a living. He notices the cigarettes and the cable TV. I notice the unmarried parents. Bad choices, not bad people. It’s still a child. Despite their choices they love her. She is a gift.

But my heart stills hurts as I see the beauty of new life and family.

Because a friend’s body and heart are bleeding this weekend as she fears the loss of her baby inside.

My body and heart are bleeding as I struggle with PCOS and the possibility of not bearing my own children.

It doesn’t feel fair. To see their gift of a precious child while we bleed and pray and hope. Then I remember the child is just that—a gift. Life is a gift. Not earned. God doesn’t owe anything to me. Or to my friend. Or this couple. Every breath—mine, hers, theirs, the newborn’s—is a gift. Life itself is a gift that has been given. Not only life today, but life eternal. So my heart quiets.

I bring all these to the Lord in prayer. My gaze falls on the crucifix. He hangs there bleeding. Another gift. For me. For her. For them. We bleed and fear. He bleeds to conquer fear. He looks at us from the cross and later risen from the tomb, saying “Be not afraid, for I am with you.”

Today this is enough. To know He gives every breath, every moment of life, as a gift. Given with immeasurable, inexhaustible love.

This is enough.