It’s hard to believe November is already here and Baby Benjamin is growing in Lacy’s womb, though doctors said he’d be gone by now. We thought we were facing a stillbirth in September, yet here we are two months later with a little grandson who has stolen our hearts and forced us to, “Be still and know that He is God” Psalm 46:10.

I’ll be honest. I am hopeful but afraid. When you give your heart to loving someone there is always the possibility of losing them. It’s hard to talk about loss when our grandbaby is still so alive, so instead, I’ll speak about heartbreak.

In 1987, my first year of college, I remember how heartbroken I was when Scott broke up with me. “I’m going into the military. I’m not ready to get married. And I don’t want to be tied down anymore,” Scott said.

Those words shattered me. But I held it together, I wished Scott well in the Army and walked away with my head held high. I wasn’t about to let him see my heart hemorrhaging inside my chest. It felt like I’d been fatally stabbed and was bleeding out but I wasn’t going to let anyone know I was so wounded.

I drove home to my parents’ ranch and began packing up my girlhood bedroom that same day. My childhood was over. I was a woman cut loose, bleeding all over the place, but free to go away to school now. I’d hoped to marry Scott, but that was over. I needed to move on before I fainted from blood loss.

The next day instead of attending my classes at the local community college where Scott went too, I walked into the office and quit school, requesting my transcripts be sent to the University Nevada-Reno. I’d already been accepted to UNR that year and went to Yuba College instead to remain with Scott. But by the end of that week, I was picking out a studio apartment in Reno in the middle of a snowstorm. I was just 19 years old and determined to make it on my own even though my feet were freezing in my tennis shoes.

Why do I tell you this story? Because what I remember most about that season of my life was my heart physically hurt inside my chest. It really felt like I had a broken heart. I would fall asleep crying and wake up crying. I was trying to be strong but was really in a painful place and it was hard to feel good about my future. Just getting through the day was hard.

2020 has been a difficult year in so many ways and many of us are not feeling good about the future. You may just be getting through each day right now. I know some of you are facing illness, divorce, financial ruin, the loss of your home or business. You may be drinking too much. Eating too much. Sleeping too much. Maybe your heart is bleeding out and you’re scared.

I know the pain you are feeling. I also know “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” Psalm 34:18.

Right now I’m bleeding profusely inside. Every day I pray for a miracle for Baby Benjamin and I’m doing all I can to comfort and help Lacy. If the doctors are right, we are going to lose baby Benjamin, perhaps by Christmastime, since we’ve been told he may very well come early with his condition that doctors say is incompatible with life.

Lacy and I have been sending Bible verses and songs back and forth to each other since early September. Last month Lacy sent me a Maddie and Tae song, Die From A Broken Heart. I listened to over and over realizing this is how we were all feeling. Our heartbreak is real. And so, so painful. And though doctors have given us no hope, we have put every last ounce of our hope in the Lord now. We have nowhere else to go. Jesus is all we have and maybe that’s the point of this whole thing.

“I’ve never seen a physical miracle,” Scott said to me yesterday. “Like somebody’s leg growing longer, or a true paraplegic walking again. If I could die so Benjamin could live, I would. If I could take Lacy’s suffering and make it my own, I would do it. More than ever I understand God giving his Son for us. I really understand the meaning of sacrifice now,” Scott told me as I wept against my pillow.

Can you believe “sacrifice” was Scott’s word for 2020? And it scared me back in January when he wrote it on a rock before any of this happened. Scott didn’t know his word yet as we walked down to the ravine on New Year’s Day to gather our rocks. He searched around for a while in the creekbed, quiet and prayerful, and it was as if the word came and landed on his shoulder like a bird. A dove or a raven. Who knew what this meant. Scott wrote sacrifice and I caught my breath. A wave of cold fear hit me. “Why sacrifice?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” Scott’s eyes met mine and neither of us smiled. “We’ll see what 2020 brings.”

As a writer, I don’t just have passing thoughts. I imagine the whole thing, often the saddest thing. I already knew what it was like to lose Scott for nine months when we broke up in college and I moved to Reno alone. I know I’m being dramatic about our breakup since we ended up married for over thirty years now, but the pain of being parted with the person I loved most in the world back then was very real and crushing and I remember it well.

All of us who brave love will ultimately experience loss. If you’ve lost a spouse or a child, a parent, or a friend you dearly love, you’ve felt the pain of loss. And death is not the only thief. Divorce destroys love. Children leaving the nest carry our momma’s hearts away. It may not even be the loss of a person you love breaking you right now. Maybe it’s the business you’ve built with your blood, sweat, and tears. Maybe it’s your dreams dying. Your hopes fading. Your soul sinking into a pit of darkness and you don’t even know why.

Trust me when I tell you Jesus knows why. And He is the answer for every one of your heartaches. “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” John 10:10. Jesus died on the cross so that we could live abundantly.

I now see the meaning and feel the pain of the word “sacrifice” for our family this year. Our baby Benjamin’s story isn’t over yet, but I get it now in a profound way. And I’m afraid of the suffering that still may be ahead for us. And yet, I am also filled with hope because “All things are possible with God” Matthew 19:26.

Never have I picked my word for the year in November but today I did.

If you are in a season of suffering like us, I encourage you to lean hard on the Lord. Dig into his word and see what promises jump into your heart while you’re hurting. The Bible gives us hope every day.

The strange thing is last year I picked up this rock in the ravine but didn’t use it for my 2020 word. This smooth rosy rock actually ended up lying in our driveway for almost a year, down near our gate where I tossed it one day out of my car and I can’t remember why I threw it away. I guess I just got tired of it laying on my floorboard without a word on it.

I found it this past weekend while getting the mail. I carried this rosy rock home, still not realizing it could become my 2021 rock. But when I saw a sharpie pen lying on the counter with the rock in my hand, I knew. I pray “miracle” is our word for 2021.

We are so grateful to all of you for praying with us for the miracle that baby Benjamin, against all odds, will arrive healthy. We know he has been created to glorify God but this doesn’t mean we will get what we want. Yet, we know we will get what we need because the Bible says, “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them,” Romans 8:28.

Praying you get what you need too, my friend. God is good even in the pain. Love you, Paula