Grieving but Not Alone

Last week was a sobering week for me. It marked two anniversaries that bring me to tears.

It was the eleventh anniversary of miscarrying our first baby and the first anniversary of my friend’s death from cancer.

Both of these losses left me grieving for a long time and in some ways, I still mourn. The losses were different but they affected me unexpectedly, continuously, and painfully, and even after the passing of time, it’s difficult to remember without crying.

Grief is an emotion that sometimes feels wrong. We might think if we mourn too deeply we aren’t trusting God or resting in his peace. We are allowing our fickle and sinful human nature to guide us. Therefore, we often brush by the grieving process and try to ‘get on with life’ without completely confronting how the loss tore us up inside.

I’m slowly coming to realize that grieving is not a sin, mourning someone is nothing to hide or forget. God gives us people and relationships and memories. They bring joy but there’s also a chance for pain. However, the pain doesn’t negate the happy times or how far God brings us in the healing process. I was talking with a friend who has also suffered loss and she wisely said, “People will tell you you’ll get over it but it’s not about getting over grief. It’s about just pressing forward, even with the grief.”

When my friend was diagnosed with cancer, it was difficult for me. She was a mom with children similar in age to my own and the gravity of this broken world became very evident as I saw her struggle and become weaker and deal with pain. We had scheduled a meet up and I was so excited to see her but that same day, quarantine fell on everyone. By the time quarantine ended, she was gone.

My miscarriage was sudden and the furthest possibility from my mind. I had crossed into that blessed second trimester, when the chance of miscarriage falls. But a series of ultrasounds confirmed my fears and suspicions. Going home from the doctor that Monday morning knowing I would be admitted to the hospital to deliver our baby the next day was crippling. I went upstairs and curled on the bed while Tommy called our parents and close friends. When we arrived at the hospital, I checked in at the Labor and Delivery door and sat to the side waiting while happy, excited, full term women filed by, their joy a stark contrast to my sorrow.

Both these experiences are things I’ll never “get over” in the sense that I’ll never forgot those moments. The passage of time doesn’t take away the pain, it doesn’t make me grieve these losses less each year. As long as I’m on this side of heaven, I will miss my friend and her sweet smile and genuine laugh. I will wonder about the baby we named Addison and mourn the memories we never made together.

However, I do not allow grief to define my memories of these people or grow so entrenched that I become bitter at what these losses denied me. In the early days, it was difficult to comprehend how life kept going for so many people while I sat in heavy memories. I felt left behind but had no desire to catch up. For me, it wasn’t about trying to get away from grieving. It was just doing what I could that day, stopping when I needed to, and allowing the tears to flow.

Probably the most comforting thing in those times was remembering I wasn’t alone. The God who walks beside me daily is also the omniscient God who knows the future. He doesn’t leave us, he knows our sorrow, he offers a peace that we can’t fully understand.

The Psalms are a great source of comfort as walk the road of grief. I repeated Psalm 23 to myself over and over. Psalm 71:1-3 reminds us we can trust in God. Psalm 121 tells of God’s help to us, how he never sleeps but keeps us. Psalm 139 speaks to the way God knows us, forms us, and is everywhere. The Bible is filled with hope we can cling to when we face sorrow. Even when people don’t know how to comfort, God does through His Word and his promise to never leave us or forsake us.

If you are experiencing grief, whether from something past or that you are currently in the midst of, I want to encourage you. Don’t be afraid to bring your sorrow before the Lord. Tell him your struggles, ask for his help, and trust him to provide your strength. Keep reading the Bible and write encouraging passages on notecards to leave throughout your home. Grief will still show itself on anniversaries and in random remembrances and it’s okay. Grief isn’t something to be overcome; it’s something we live with but don’t allow to control us. It’s another way we lean on God and trust him to carry us.

Loss and grief are difficult and in this broken world, they will never go away. But lean on the God of all comfort who knows you and loves you. There is grace and hope through him, for today and all your coming tomorrows.

Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

Hello and Goodbye. But God is Still Good

Nine years ago today I lay in a hospital bed. The room was silent except for a few interruptions from nurses. I tried to focus on something other than the reason for my stay but that was impossible. After hours of waiting, it finally happened. Our baby was born at 14 weeks.

I thought I had prepared myself in the 24 hours before, when we found out the baby's heart had stopped for an unknown reason. But seeing the tiny form — so small yet perfectly formed — brought a fresh wave of grief at what the day meant. The death of our child, the desire for a baby unfulfilled.

When trials flip our world upside down it’s easy to question everything we thought we knew before. Things that seemed so obvious in our carefree, everyday lives are challenged and we are forced to not just mouth the truths we hear but to dwell on them, to run after them, to actively remind ourselves that those things are still true.

After our baby was born, Tommy and his parents gathered around my hospital bed and we quoted a portion of Psalm 139 — “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.” {vv.13-14}

As I said hello and goodbye to my baby on the same day, a part of me struggled to believe God was good in this. But goodness doesn’t always equal what we think we want. I’ve come to learn that part of trusting God day in and day out is believing that he knows me better than I know myself and he loves me more than I love myself. He doesn’t bring harm into my life but because we live in a sin cursed world, bad does exist and we are not immune from its touch.

When we experience the pain that is now part of our world, we can find rest in God. Because of his grace. Because he gives us hope. Not “I hope everything is going to be okay” but a confident, knowing, expectation that he keeps his promises and he loves us. The Bible is filled with his promises and his attributes which we can lean on and cling to. He is our Rock, our Fortress, our Shelter from whatever hardships we encounter. And he is Faithful.

We don’t know the gender of our baby who would have turned nine this October. But we named that baby Addison {child of Adam} Bennett {blessed little one}. And our daughters have the middle names Hope and Grace.

Do you know how I can still say God is good after heartbreaking loss? I Peter 1:3 says — “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”

That is what I find joy in despite the hurt and sorrow. That is how I know God is still good. That is what I find rest and peace in.

Photo by Antonio Ochoa on Unsplash

The Importance of an Unchanging God

In my office closet there is a white fabric box, tied shut with ribbon. Inside are the notes, cards, and verses people shared with us after my miscarriage. I don't open the box often but I have the contents memorized. In the weeks after that difficult 24 hours, I found myself trying to piece together what I could dwell on. I couldn’t focus on the here and now. It was too painful as life went on different than I had planned it to be.

And a common thread through everything I accumulated in that white box was about God. He is good, He is mighty, He is loving, He is powerful. God was {and is} everything that I am not. He wasn’t surprised by my baby’s loss and it didn’t happen because He wasn’t powerful enough to keep my baby protected. Even in the face of grief and sorrow God was {and is} merciful in so many ways.

Years before I participated in a study about the character of God. But unlike some studies, we didn’t just go to certain passages and notice what it said. We simply did our regular Bible reading and noted what it taught about God. We had papers with different headings {God is just, God is true/truth, God is creator, etc} and as we found verses that described Him we would write down the verse/passage under the appropriate heading.

The pages of the Bible are filled with Who He is and my notebook quickly filled up as well. We so often get caught up in wondering how we are to apply God’s Word to our lives that we overlook what the Bible is teaching about the Creator of it all. After losing Addison, I read over those pages and pages of verses, marveling that God was still all of those things. Despite my world spinning - seemingly out of control - God was unchanged. What was true about Him before that doctor’s appointment was true as I walked into the hospital the next day and the day after.

Because I knew God wouldn’t change, I could rest in Him for strength when I was weary, for comfort when I was wrung out, for grace when I didn’t know what I needed. And He is the only one who can offer that.

Photo by Jan Kahanek on Unsplash

When Others Weep

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.  Romans 12:15

Rejoicing and weeping. Opposite ends of the emotional spectrum. Yet in this verse they are given equal importance. It’s so easy for us to be happy for others. We celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, job promotions, good news of all sorts. I believe it’s the easier emotion because we like it. We want to be happy, joyful people and usually with the hoorahs and congratulations of life we know better what to say. Weeping is different.

When grief is involved we somehow feel tongue tied. If we haven’t experienced the loss or disappointment of our friend we aren’t sure if comfort is possible. What if we say the wrong thing? What if we make it worse? We so often are afraid of doing it wrong that we simply offer a pat on the back, maybe quote Psalm 23, and hope for the best. Or maybe we stumble for words so we feel better, so we can say we did something and it’s now up to the friend to use our advice.

The beauty and simplicity of Romans 12:15 is lost on us as we try to muddle through and decide what advice would be the most helpful and the least hurtful.

And while this verse is often used to remind us how to care for others, I’m afraid - like many passages - we don’t always return it to the context of the rest of the chapter. If we did we would find this smack in the middle of a whole paragraph of ways we are to live as Christians. In my Bible, verses 9-21 are labeled with the heading, “Marks of the True Christian.” And if we consider what these verses tell us I believe we’ll have a better grasp on how to fulfill verse 15. {For the sake of space I’ll condense the passage below but please take time to read the verses on your own.}

Verses 9-13 remind us to love others with genuine affection, honoring them and showing hospitality. Verses 14, 17-21 tell us to not seek revenge on those who persecute us or do wrong to us. We are to leave that to God. And verse 16 says we are to be humble and live in harmony with those around us. It is in the midst of all this that we find the command to rejoice and weep with others.

Notice that we are not told to offer advice or give approval for the rejoicing and weeping. We are simply to do it with others. And when put in context of what I mentioned above, we are to rejoice and weep while loving, honoring our neighbor, walking humbly and serving the Lord in our life, holding fast to what is good.

So when we have friends who are walking through a trial, sometimes the best help we can offer is simply to grieve with them. Cry, listen, pray. It’s not always necessary to offer words you hope will encourage. Recently several of my friends have gone through various hardships - sometimes with no end in sight - and I have found myself saying, “I don’t know what to say so I’m not going to say anything. Just know I’m here to listen and I’m praying.”

Have you grieved a loss recently? What is the most helpful thing someone has done to come alongside and weep with you?

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

Memories of Comfort

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. Eight years ago last May, we lost our first baby at 15 weeks. The heart simply stopped beating. Of course there was nothing simple about the loss. My Granddaddy had died the previous January and we were all looking forward to celebrating the first baby, grandbaby, great-grandbaby. But God gave us a different path. We were not able to find out gender but we named our little one Addison Bennett (meaning ‘child of God, blessed little one’).

I don’t think about Addison everyday but when I do I can remember everything about the Monday I went to the doctor, the next day in the hospital when we said hello and goodbye. Some things time doesn’t take away. Memories are one of them.

I found the below post from my previous blog, written a week after my miscarriage. Fresh with pain - physical and emotional - these were the thoughts I took comfort in during those dark days. And I can honestly say they continue to bring me hope and comfort.

A week ago today, my husband and I were in the hospital after the birth of our baby, Addison Bennett. I was 15 weeks pregnant when the Dr. couldn't find a heartbeat on the ultrasound. Within 24 hours, I was in a hospital bed, taking medicine to induce contractions. There is nothing easy about losing a baby, in fact it was the hardest day of my life. However, especially in the trials, there are things to learn and ways to grow. A few things I've learned or been reminded of this week:

1. God is the creator of everything, even when we can't see it all. When we saw little Addison after birth, the baby was only 3 inches long. But already arms, legs, head, all the parts were there and clearly identifiable. God had been forming this little one, unseen by human eyes.

2. God is in control of everything, despite our misplaced efforts to do things our own way. Tommy and I read books, asked questions, did everything we could to protect our baby. But God had other plans and nothing any doctor did would have prevented Addison's heart from stopping.

3. God uses the hardest of times to draw us close to Him. The prayers that were said for us, the Bible verses quoted in the hospital, the messages from friends and family. Everything that happened that day pointed us to God and reminded us to draw close to Him and He would draw close to us.

4. God knows what is best for us and He will work this together for good in His time. When I see a baby or hear a friend is pregnant, I struggle to see why God took Addison. Then I remember the times we were able to witness to nurses in the hospital. I think of the people who have encouraged me the last week and the joy I've been able to share with them in return. God is already using our child for His glory.

 We are still adjusting to this change God has given us. I have laughed uncontrollably at the slightest joke then cried minutes later when I see a baby on TV. I'm obviously still learning. But God is gracious and I know He won't give up on us. His peace and comfort are the greatest encouragement and reminder that God knows what He is doing. We just need to be patient and wait on the Lord.