This is the day...

Today, our little foursome loaded up for our yearly summer Zoo trip.  The kids LOVE the Zoo.

The adults.  Well.  We go.

I mean, we love seeing them so excited.  We make the animal noises.  Laugh at Rhys trying to say all the animals names.  And then asking if he can pet them.

No, Rhys.  You can't pet the Cheetah.  

We take pictures of them on all the animal statues.  Try to catch Rhys when he falls off because he won't hang on.  Or sit still.  

We buy the giraffe food...for FIVE DOLLARS...and giggle along with them as that crazy long giraffe tongue takes the little cookie thing right out of their tiny hands.

We pack enough food and clothes and sunscreen to start the first human colony on Mars.  

And then we still buy food.

Although not as much as Pumpkin begs for.  BEGS.  Like she's never eaten ice cream before BEGS.

There are wardrobe changes for the kids area with lots of water flowing in and over ROCKS.  Where Chris has to be all helicopter-parent-like simply to prevent Rhys from cracking his head open when he jumps off every rock in the joint.  He thinks he's five.  

He's just two.

He falls.

A lot.

All the while, I watch AK dance around the water trying to avoid getting splashed.  She hates getting her hair wet.  Her swimsuit wet.  Her face wet.  She just wanders around.  Doing her best not to get wet.  While being surrounded by water.  

Fascinating.

Then there's the inevitable meltdowns when it's time to go.  Because we're out of milk/juice/apples and we won't buy ice cream/icee/merry go round tickets and is angry she made the clearly short-sided decision to stay in her damp swimsuit instead of changing into dry clothes like her brother, who never really had a choice.  

Following that is the silent treatment because I DON'T LIKE MY SWIMSUIT and screaming because there are scraped knees and they hurt and if you would just not jump off the rocks like we TOLD YOU SO you wouldn't have scraped knees.  

Finally home and naps and showers and clean, non-suncreened clothes and breathing and realizing...

I haven't gotten a text message today.  

Not just any message.  A message saying a baby was lost.  

Not just any baby.  A baby we'd been praying for...every day...for seven months.  

From the minute my precious friend asked me to pray with her for God to grow her family.

A week ago, she called.  She was pregnant.  

Oh the JOY!  

By Wednesday, she wasn't.

And oh how I prayed.  Cried.  Begged.  

By Friday she was canceling our plans for today...the day we decided to brave the Zoo instead.  There was a procedure.  And it had to be on our day.  

This was not what I wanted.  Not what she wanted.

But yesterday, as I was fumbling my way through more begging and pleading, The Lord reminded me...

This is the day that The Lord has made.  We will rejoice and be glad in it. ~ Psalm 118:24

The entirety of Psalm 118 is amazing.  

But yesterday, I just got the one verse.  

I fell asleep rejoicing.  Rejoicing in the babies He has given.  To my sweet friend, to my other amazing infertiles and to us.  Rejoicing in her faith.  Rejoicing in her marriage.  Rejoicing in the support I knew she would receive and has been receiving.  Rejoicing in her parents and their love for her.  

When the message finally came, she said all day Sunday she had been given "unexplainable joy."  Today was hard, harder than she was expecting, but the joy from Sunday helped carry her on through today.

This is the day that the Lord has made.  

A day filled with absolute chaos and sadness and grieving.  But, in the immense goodness of our Father, filled with love and joy and rejoicing.  

Only He can give that.  Only He can take this and turn it into "unexplainable joy."  

Today wasn't the day I had planned a week ago.  Wasn't the day I would have ever planned.  But this is the day that The Lord made.  And regardless of whatever we face in this life, I will rejoice and be glad in it.

Because through Him, we can.