Skip to main content

Dear God

Dear God, it hurts a lot.

A very piece of me has washed away, stripped from my innermost being. My flesh and blood, as though passed away into oblivion.

God, I wanted this child. See it, my heart? Enlarged, already having welcomed this one in. Weeks along, the slight expanding of my belly, gone.

May my child never be passed away from your sight, Father. May this little one never be looked over, passed by, dishonored, or forgotten by You, Giver of Life, Namer of Souls.

I read of the love and grief of Jesus, witnessed and recorded in John's narrative. The sorrow over the death of his friend twisting his visage, releasing rivers of salt and staining his lips. 

Then Jesus wept. The people who were standing nearby said, 'See how much he loved him!'

Surely then, He is close by here, not a distant force or impersonal power, but personal. Near. Here, while I grieve on this sofa.

You etched the name of my child in your book, didn't You? My little one was a person from the moment of its essence, and mattered to You, didn't it?

I slowly flood with peace as I consider my unborn one ushered directly into heaven. Alive, before life even unfolded. Born into the arms of the living God.

And because of the blood of Christ, I will see my lost little one again.

We were not meant to taste death, and our children were not meant to die. Eternity has been planted in the human heart, and it is for eternity I am waiting.

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body
and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
Your workmanship is marvelous — how well I know it.
You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,
as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out
before a single day had passed.
Psalm 139:13-16

The Lord is good to everyone;
his compassion rests on all he has made.
Psalm 145:9

God has planted eternity in the human heart.
Ecclesiastes 3:11


Popular posts from this blog

A Record of Kindness

A Record of God's Kindness During Loss Tuesday's diary: A deep, loving hug from a neighbor as I cry on her back porch on a gloomy, gray morning. She is mid-snip as she trims my five year old's hair when I begin crying. I suspect I lost my baby the night before, but then I've bled in pregnancy before. This feels different. The kind of different that makes you afraid. Wednesday's  diary : A visit in my home from the midwife, the ultrasound confirms an empty uterus. Hollow, and still. A gift to be in the comfort of my own home as she embraces me, prays over me, listens to me weep the better part of an hour, and lovingly prepares me physically and emotionally for the grief still to come. A wise encouragement to slow down, cancel my week, and take time to "close the loop" on recognizing the life I had carried, the child we loved, the value and dignity of the person who entered and left our family circle. A drive to take the older two kids to their music camp in