Born to Heaven

Darlene,

I watched your interview with Amy. It was excellent!

Did I hear you say that you had five miscarriages? I have had two and today I got news that it looks like I am having my third. I will not know for a few days as I did blood work again today. I had an ultrasound today and they don't see a heartbeat. I think I am earlier than they think, but who knows.

How did you survive five and still want to get pregnant again? I don't know that I can survive three. I know God is in control and He knows best, but it really does hurt.

Sara

Sara

Oh, Sara, I am so sorry for you. I’m heartbroken, and my spirit longs for your joy to return.

Yeah, I lost five. One was at five months along and I had to carry the deceased baby around for about a week because it wouldn't miscarry itself. That threw me into a deep depression. Not that I was sad over the miscarriage necessarily, but because it was so hard on my body.

And there is always day three. Day three after a miscarriage you have post-partum depression—at least I did every time. My husband became the enemy and I was grumpy.

Miscarriages are a strange thing. When I finally lost one on Christmas day, a hospital worker said to me. "God loves this child so much that he wants it in heaven with him. He is at the birthday party of our Lord." That’s when I started to think of those children as real kids. I have nine--five born to heaven.

It’s a tough walk, and a heart-wrenching experience to go through, but in many cases we do find they come along with a blessing in disguise. My niece had so much trouble with miscarriage and infertility that she was forced to adopt.

When their first son, Tyler was born on her birthday we knew it was nothing less than a God thing. If it wasn't for the trouble she had endured, adoption wouldn't have been a consideration for her and perhaps Tyler and his brother Jessie wouldn't be where they are today.

I’m not suggesting that adoption is your option at this point, because I really don’t know God’s path for you. Miscarriages are common, and having three doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t go on to having a dozen healthy kids. Following my five miscarriages I had three more children born to this world.

It's hard to see past the pain in search of God's plan, but remember that He holds that baby in the palm of His hand whether he's born to earth or born to this world. That is your child. You are a mom, and I'm proud of you because of the motherly love that you have. Don't ever let anyone make those unborn children feel less important to you. They are your babies, and your gift from God.

You can also read my article "Sacred Sorrow," which is an account of my own experience, and offers a few more thoughts on the topic.

My prayers are with you. Don't give up hope, and don't give up trying. After one born to earth, and five born to heaven, I had three more. That's nine children in total. I’m blessed, as are you!

I'm praying for you and the health of this baby.

Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him.
~ Psalm 126:5&6, NIV

You are loved by an almighty God,

Darlene

The Little Chapel on Morrow

I’ll always remember that day. We stood at the front of the church, my sister and I—she in a teal colored sweater, and me wearing the same version in pink. Together we sang, “Jesus Loves Me This I know…” I sang the melody, while Bonnie chimed in with harmony. She always could sing better harmony than I; however that’s considering I couldn’t sing harmony at all. Neither one of us were amazing singers by any stretch of the imagination, but that morning we sang like we were--spreading the love of God, from radiant voices of praise.

It was a crisp February morning, the 14th to be exact. The congregation of maybe 45 people at most, were gathered together in the wee chapel on Morrow Avenue. Mr. Dorsette sat hunched over the keys of the organ that towered above him, while Mrs. Hensley shuffled through her purse in search of her specs. A Kleenex that fell to her lap was carefully tucked into the cuff of her sleeve. Our parents sat stage left, near the front, beaming with pride, since singing to a congregation of 45 was about the closest thing to success our family knew.

Members of the congregation leaned in, squinting, smiling, and glaring at the girl with the blond hair. I was new to the church, but one look revealed that I belonged with the red-headed girl--sisters that looked, sang, and dressed so much alike. We wore beige nylons beneath denim skirts, and flat pumps that added nothing to our short stature.

Sitting in the back row sat a group of young men. The leader of their pack, Michael Schacht, combed fingers through his hair with one hand while the other lay resting on the back of the pew. Listening more intently than he had for the past 20 years in attendance, his eyes remained steady on the girl with the golden hair.

“We need to get them in our band,” he whispered to the guys. And together they nodded wondering which one would get our phone numbers first.

Two weeks later, I answered a call from my sister Bonnie. “Hey, I forgot to tell you,” she said. “Remember when we sang at my church on Valentine’s Day?”

How could I forget? I was nervous beyond belief, wondering if the congregation had gathered a collection to have me taken out for stepping on stage that morning. It’s unnerving to look into the eyes of people whose relaxed demeanor shouts, “You’ll be burned at the stake if you miss that high note.” And I’m sure I missed several.

“Well,” she continued. “There’s a guy in our church who has a band, and he really wants us to sing in it.”

My first thought was What’s wrong with this band? Why would they ask US to sing with them? Weren’t we the girls who stood there only two weeks earlier sporting nail polished nylons (fyi it stops runs) and belting out kindergarten tunes? My second thought was BOYS. In fact my third, fourth, fifth, and sixth thoughts were Boys, Boys, Boys, Boys. So that afternoon in 1986, I joined the Crossroads band.

I hadn’t planned to join a band that morning, 24 years ago, nor did I plan to find my husband in the back row of a little chapel on Morrow Avenue. But God’s plan that Valentine's day was exceedingly abundant above anything I could have dreamed of or prayed for my life. He knew my desires, as he knew Michael’s heart, and so in that moment divinely orchestrated by the Father of love, our journey began.

24 years later, Michael is still the leader of the pack, but that pack has changed some with four children, two birds, three hamsters, and a little blond wife. The pink sweater and nylons are gone, the chapel is empty, and praise God--our house is full.

Today we are celebrating 22 years of marriage. Yes, we still miss the high notes now and then, but a happy marriage of 22 years is about the closest thing to success our family knows.

Happy Anniversary, Michael. I love you with all of my heart.

About Me - Darlene Schacht

Therefore shall a man leave his father 
and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: 
and they shall be one flesh. 
~ Genesis 2:24, KJV

It was my husband's birthday. We had big plans for the evening and I was hoping to make his day the best that I could. The presents were bought and we had plans to go to our favorite restaurant.

He got home from work a little early that day and asked me to join him in the living room. I wasn't sure what was up, but I understood from the look on his face that something was wrong. Something terrible.

Sitting across from him, I'll never forget the sound of his words that rang in my ears and ripped through my heart, "Are you having an affair?" He asked.

Looking up at him I quickly answered, "No. Why would you even ask that?"

"Please don't lie to me," he said. And as he continued to question me the heat rose in my face. My cheeks were numb, my mouth was dry and weak. "Did you have an affair?"

I hung my head, unable to look in his eyes. Barely able to speak I lifted my chin in a nod and then in another. My house of cards collapsed, my shame crashing to the ground along with it.

My sin, the glorious fruit of lust had enticed me into the pit of death where all I could think of was death. For death itself had enveloped me and with it came shame and reproach. I had sinned against God, my husband and my family. Everything I had once held so dear to me loomed above the pit of sin and shame I had dug for myself.

A few hours later I was up in my bedroom packing the few things I had left. Michael and I had talked, but at the end of the day there was nothing I had left to offer him, nothing but soiled rags--words of remorse that he couldn't rely on, and promises where all trust was gone. My eyes were swollen from crying, my heart was heavy with shame.

"Do you want to stay?" he asked.

I didn't know how to answer that. All I wanted to do was stay with my family--to turn back the clock a year--but I was unworthy to be a wife, a mother and a child of God. How could I stay in a place where I didn't belong? How could I ever live on the surface again? How could I ever be trusted to love?

"I can't." I said. "I just can't..."

And again he said, "That's not what I'm asking you. Do you WANT to stay?" he asked.

Loving his wife as Christ loves the church, his hand of grace reached down to me when I needed it most.

There is incredible power in the words of Jesus Christ who said, "Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more."

I didn't deserve Michael's love and forgiveness. I didn't deserve a second chance. I didn't deserve my family and I didn't deserve to be loved by those that I hurt. But in that moment of darkness where one person in this world cared enough to display the covenant keeping love of Jesus Christ to His church I turned from my sin and clung to the grace of God that is strong enough to break the bands of sin and death. It's strong enough to graft one man to a woman when everything in this world threatens to pull them apart.

I started Time-Warp Wife out of that place of grace, all the while wondering if God could use someone who’s broken and tarnished like me. The object of my ministry is to encourage women in their marriage in hopes that they won’t make the mistakes that I have.

I am a sinner who is nothing without the grace of our Lord.

In order for two souls to survive this union--to be grafted together as one--they must be completely sealed by the covenant-keeping love of our Lord Jesus Christ and the faithfulness of His bride. It's the compound that holds marriage together and the reason itself that marriage exists.

Marriage exists to display the merciful

covenant-keeping love of Christ

and the faithfulness of his bride.

~ John Piper, Momentary Marriage

You are loved by an almighty God,

Darlene

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