Remember a while back when I got all riled up about writing Rip's book...actually wrote a book? Then got rejected by 40 some odd editors and publishers? That was (not) fun.
Finally, a very nice man who offered to take a look at some of what I'd written confirmed what I already feared to be true...I needed to re-write the whole darn thing. Well, maybe not the WHOLE thing, but most of it. Talk about exhausting. I mean, wasn't it enough to live it, write a blog about it, and then kind of copy and paste all of that into a book?
Yeah, I was afraid not.
The problem was that mainly I wrote like I thought I person might write who was writing about losing her baby...I didn't write like me. I didn't write what I wanted to write, I wrote what I thought "they" wanted to hear. And "they" hated it.
So, for a while I've kind of not done anything with Rip's story. And to be honest, for a while I've been pretty angry with God. This may be a post for another time and place, but it all kind of seems to go together so I might as well get it all out in one fell swoop (what does that even mean?).
When I was pregnant with Gracie, I was clinging to my faith so hard, I needed God to be there more than ever. Then when I had her, a lot of that anger that I couldn't afford to have after Rip died just came bubbling back up. I came to the conclusion that I believed in God, but I was supposed to have all of this LOVE for Him...and to put it mildly, I wasn't feeling the love.
And that lasted for a while until I didn't feel that way anymore. And that's that, or what months of inner turmoil looks like in blog form anyway. But sometimes I think people go through really hard things and they don't admit to feeling doubt or anger and I think sometimes I was one of those people. Heck, even Mother Theresa had doubts!
Yesterday I was reading a blog another mother had written who had lost a baby years ago. She was talking about a sign she received after praying for that very kind of sign. And I felt such a sense of recognition. I don't know how God works all of the time in the world, there are certainly things I will always question Him on, but I do know that He sends signs to mothers who have lost their children. I believe in signs.
So, last night I started thinking about Rip's story again. And kind of talking over with God whether or not I should write it again. I flipped open my Bible (after many months of staying away, I've started reading it again) and the following verse is what I read: Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it...(2 Corinthians 8:11)
And I realized that I am the only one who will ever be able to tell Rip's story. I am the only one that was with him from the very beginning to the very end. The only one who can complete this for our family. So I hope I can do it, even ten years from now, I hope it is something I finish.