After recently going through my fifth miscarriage, God sent me a very special message. Three days after I miscarried, I went to the doctor for what would have been an appointment to hear our baby’s heartbeat; an appointment I was to share with my mother. But, instead, I found myself in the oh-so-familiar situation of a miscarriage follow-up with my OB/GYN. I went alone, but I wasn’t alone. My Jesus was right there with me. As I sat in the waiting room, I was struggling to understand why I miscarried what we thought was a perfectly healthy baby. I sat in the children’s play area – a place I have never sat – looking out the window (it happened to be empty that day). My eyes caught sight of a picture that had been drawn by a child who will probably never know the message written in crayon would be for a heartbroken woman longing to have a baby of her own. A child who will probably never know God Himself whispered those words in their ear, because it was something I so desperately needed to hear. The Heaven-sent message was “Count the Rainbows, not the Thunders.” Now, I am someone who loves stormy weather, but when it comes to the storms of life, not so much. Who does? But one thing I’ve learned, especially through the last two miscarriages is, God is with me. In those moments of having to give our babies back to Him, I’ve felt His presence so tangibly. I have cried out to Him in pain and anguish, and immediately, His Love and peace came. The pain didn’t go away, but He was there, and I knew it; He made sure I knew it. He was there when the miscarriages were in full swing. He was there with me, as I sat alone in that waiting room. He was in the loving hug I received from a nurse who took my blood for tests. She held me while I cried and made no effort to let me go, because she saw my pain and wanted to do what she could to make it better. Her arms were God’s arms embracing me in my brokenness. He was there in the moments my precious husband did everything he could to comfort and love me through it all. And He was there in that message drawn by someone’s child, who heard the voice of the Father. My Father. My Father, Who gave up His only Son to get me. My Father, Who loves me, and you, that much.
Don’t count the thunders. It’s sometimes hard not to, when it seems they are all you can hear. But, as I watched my husband try so hard to love me through this, I began to count the rainbows. Jason is one of my many, many rainbows. Even though this baby was not meant to be, and I don’t understand why right now, God has given me rainbows. I have a Savior Who gave everything He had for me; a Savior Who would have done it all had I been the only one He’d gain from it. I have a husband who loves me beyond my human comprehension. I have a home, food on the table and clothes in my closet. I have a purpose. I have a destiny. I have a hope and a future. My favorite scripture is Jeremiah 29:11-13 (AMP): 11 “For I know the plans and thoughts that I have for you,” says the Lord, “plans for peace and well-being and not for disaster to give you a future and a hope. 12 Then you will call on Me and you will come and pray to Me, and I will hear [your voice] and I will listen to you. 13 Then [with a deep longing] you will seek Me and require Me [as a vital necessity] and [you will] find Me when you search for Me with all your heart.” What an amazing promise.
There will be thunders, because in life there are storms. I don’t always understand why they come, but I know not to count them, because beyond the thunders are my rainbows; with Jesus, there will ALWAYS be rainbows. I will keep my focus on Him. He’s always with me, and He’s always waiting with rainbows.