I Bought a Shirt
Two years ago I bought a shirt.
The shirt was meant to spread awareness of a struggle a young family was experiencing. They desperately wanted to be parents. They were hoping to raise money for treatments or adoption and more importantly spread hope during their time in a dark valley of longing.
I bought the shirt, said a prayer and never thought much more about it.
A few weeks later my shirt arrived. I loved the image, the word "HOPE" along with the verse Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
A day later, I pulled that shirt over my head and thought of the plans the Lord must have for me.
I had been wrestling with severe anxiety for months and felt a new season starting that day. I felt fresh and rejuvenated seeing those words and remembering the love our Father had for me.
The day contrasted immensely from the previous ones. My heart wasn't fluttering with fear like it had been for months. It was as if fresh oxygen had been given straight to my soul. I had meditated on the plans my Father had laid out before me all day and was thankful and peaceful.
Fueled by my renewed vigor, I started laundry and prepared for our family to visit. I busied myself with my side business and dishes and other mundane tasks that so often fill our lives.
I was the last person to know that the last hours of mundane would be foreshadowed by a promise from the Lord Himself.
I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for a future and a hope.
A hope.
I KNOW, says the Lord.
A future, AND HOPE.
I never wore that shirt again.
But I remember that shirt. I remember the foreshadowing, the irony. I picture that shirt in all of its purpose, soaked in pain of one family's desire to have a baby, while it would soon be drenched in the pain of losing mine.
Some people chalk things like this up to coincidence. But this was no happenstance.
The Lord, as He always does, used one person's suffering to speak hope into another's suffering. He led that family to make shirts to help them on their journey, which led to my heart clinging to the promise of a future. He instructed that family to push through the longing and shine light on something hard. They trusted enough that something good could come from the hurt they felt in their hearts. They trusted the small, still voice of Jesus, urging them to create this shirt. They believed that something good could come from their hard times. They trusted Jesus enough to see their pain through the lens of hope and not the lens of fear. Their willingness provided the opportunity to spread hope to others during a time of shear devastation.
That shirt now sits, tucked away in a box, stained with the blood of my child. It holds the memories of the worst night of my life. It symbolizes pain and triumph, hard and good. It shows us what can happen when we stop looking at our struggle with our own understanding, and when we can see our pain through God's eyes. That shirt reminds me of the love the Lord has for each of us. The shirt proves to me the willingness He has to provide rescue to our broken hearts.
They made a shirt. They chose to put aside their feelings of defeat and claim victory over the promises given to them. Even when it felt hopeless.
Oh the good that comes from dying to ourselves and doing the work of Jesus. The hope it spreads when we can see our pain through God's eyes and trust in His word.
I wonder what promise I would have held onto if I wasn't wearing that shirt. I wonder if I would have remembered that our God is good, even when the world is not. My guess is yes, but because of their obedience, that family got to be a part of my story of hope.