In all of your pain and sorrow you desperately want God to hear your prayer and comfort you in this dark season. Mother’s Day can be a stark reminder that there is a deep longing in your soul for a baby you long to hold, either in heaven or yet to be formed. And when you cry out to the Lord it seems like he isn’t there either.
April is Sexual Assualt Awareness Month
Even though we are more than halfway through the month of April, I think it's worth mentioning that April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. I actually didn't know that until this year, so I'm not sure how long it has been held this month. Regardless of my past ignorance, it's an important issue to raise awareness about. Sexual assault is a horrible and demeaning form of violence against men and women. And while it is reprehensible, it should be talked about in our churches and in our communities. Silence doesn't make it go away. It only isolates the victim further.
Your Pain is My Pain
Even after all this time the sadness over losing our baby has come in waves. Sometimes I go weeks, and even a month or two, without crying over our loss. Other times the tears won’t stop. Grief and longing have a way of creeping up on you when you least expect them. There are different triggers to my sadness, and sometimes the greatest one is seeing a father with his children.
Help After Miscarriage: Time Doesn't Always Heal
I’ve heard it said that time heals. I suppose it does. But not always right away. In the months following a miscarriage it might seem to the outsider that much time has passed, therefore healing is inevitable. Each passing month for me has brought its own set of challenges. In some ways, I have healed a lot. But in others, the time has only intensified the sadness. I don’t cry nearly as much as I used to, but there are days that I just can’t shake the sadness—the sad reality that I thought I would be feeling a kicking baby by now.
Joining the Everlasting Song
The other day I was listening to Together for the Gospel Live by Bob Kauflin. While leading the musical worship he said something that struck me. He said, "we may just be beginning our song this morning, but we are joining a greater song that is already going on." When we sing our praises to God, we are joining with the saints around the throne of King Jesus. That made me weep.
Hope Found in an Old Story
I always forget how much I love reading the Gospels until I begin reading them again. And then I am struck with the richness of the story. God came to earth. Even grander than that, he came as a little, helpless baby. We get to read this story on the other side of history. For the characters partaking, they don’t know how it will all unfold.
One Month Later
In some ways it feels like it has been an eternity since we lost our baby, not one month. It feels even stranger to say that it has been 30 days. But it has. Our hearts are healing. And while we grieved in the immediate aftermath of the miscarriage, there are days where it feels like the grief is just beginning. When it first happened I was in shock. I cried for days. But most of the time I was just floating through life, holding on and barely getting my most basic tasks done.
Mother of All Living
When Sorrow Doesn't Feel "Light"
Before the miscarriage I used to hear verses like Romans 8:28 and 1 Corinthians 4:17 and think “of course God works everything for good. Of course afflictions only last for a moment.” Lately when I hear things like “this light, momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory” (2 Cor. 4:17), I have a tendency to want to say “but it doesn’t feel light and momentary!” Because honestly, in these moments, it feels like the sorrow will last forever. It feels like it won’t ever go away. The sting might lessen. But, for us, we will be missing our baby for the rest of our earthly lives—even if God blesses us with more children. And there is nothing that feels light and momentary about that.
There Will Come a Day
I know I have only written about our baby in recent days, but honestly it's what permeates my thoughts most days. I've been able to process more, and I hope to post that soon. Initially I couldn't think about anything. My mind was just a blur and I felt like I was coasting through life, riding on the prayers of other people. And they have been such a blessing. I still feel that way at times, but today I feel okay, so I am writing. I say "today" because I really don't know what each day holds for my emotions. And I'm okay with that.