Hope for the Hard Questions of Miscarriage
Editor’s Note: This article looks at three of the common, complex questions couples often ask in the wake of miscarriage or infant loss. It was written by Eric Schumacher, a father whose wife has had multiple miscarriages and recently published a book equipping husbands to support their wives through the trials of miscarriage. We encourage you to digest the questions presented in this article alongside an in-person community (friends, pastors, counselors, etc.) that can help hold your hand and encourage your heart through this heavy season. You can also find additional resources on our Suffering & Loss page.
Why Won't Jesus Bless Us?
If you've been to a baby shower, church nursery, infant baptism, or child dedication, then you're likely familiar with Psalm 127:3-5 (ESV): “Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them!”
Those words are true and good. They are, after all, the word of God. But these words can sting following a miscarriage, especially when they are misunderstood or misapplied. Children are a reward. So, what did we do wrong? Children are "arrows in the hand of a warrior." Are we useless soldiers in the army of God? If the one with children is blessed, what does that say of us?
This song was initially written for the people of Israel dwelling in the promised land. For the nation to survive and flourish, it required children. An abundance of children demonstrated that God had blessed them! When Jesus came, he fulfilled God's intentions for Israel and radically transformed what it means to be blessed. God's kingdom grows through "those who believe in his name, who were born, not of natural descent . . . but of God" (John 1:12-13). Instead of a mandate to procreate, the King commissions us to fill the earth with people born again by God's Spirit.[1]
In Jesus' kingdom, the empty are blessed: “Blessed are you who are poor, because the kingdom of God is yours. Blessed are you who are hungry now, because you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, because you will laugh” (Luke 6:20-21).
Wondering why Jesus won't bless you is usually a good sign that Jesus has blessed you. You know him as the giver of good gifts. You feel empty, which means you're longing for the fullness of his kingdom—and you're looking to Jesus to bring it. “Sure,” you might be saying, “I get that (sort of)—but what's the point of all this emptiness?”
What is Jesus Doing in Our Pain?
If you're bewildered, scared, and a little panicked, wondering what Jesus is up to, don't worry—you're not the first to feel that way. Jesus' earthly parents could sympathize.
Once, when Jesus was twelve, his family traveled home after visiting Jerusalem for the Passover. After a full day of travel, Joseph and Mary realized that neither of them knew where their son was and headed back to the city, searching it for three days.
When they finally found Jesus in the temple, Mary exclaimed, "Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you" (Luke 2:48). Who can blame her? Her boy had been missing for five whole days!
Perhaps we're asking the same question as Mary after our miscarriage—"God, why have you treated us like this?" It's not a sin to ask that question, provided we ask it in faith. Job and Jesus asked similar questions.[2] And, in Mary's case (and ours!), it's a question that Jesus answers—with his own question.
"Didn't you know that it was necessary for me to be in my Father's house?" (Luke 2:49). Jesus came to earth to do “the will of him who sent me: that I should lose none of those he has given me but should raise them up on the last day. For this is the will of my Father: that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him will have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day" (John 6:39-40).
That answer is good news. It means that Jesus is devoted to saving you, even if it requires temporary pain (like his parents felt at his disappearance). In some mysterious way, Jesus is using even miscarriage to help us look to him and believe so that he can raise us up on the last day.
How, precisely, is Jesus redeeming our painful losses? Here's the hard answer: this side of heaven, we'll probably never know.
Mary and Joseph returned to Nazareth with their son, likely still confused about what had just happened.[3] What's he talking about? Why couldn't he have just told us he needed to stay in the temple?! Faith and sanctification don't mean having all the answers. We're often called to be like Mary, who "kept all these things in her heart" (Luke 2:51). We treasure that Jesus is working for our good, even when it sure doesn't feel like it.
How Do We Honor Jesus in This?
Like every part of life, miscarriage is an opportunity to honor Jesus. Unfortunately, like every part of life, it also brings many temptations to sin.
Miscarriage is a stressful, painful, and confusing situation. We might be tempted to speak harshly to our spouse or to seek too much comfort or escape in food, entertainment, or sleep. Loss of life brings tension into relationships, which can provoke sinful patterns in our marriages, parenting, and friendships.
So one way we can honor Jesus in miscarriage is by intentionally loving our neighbor as ourselves.[4] I'll be frank: I don't do so well loving my neighbor when everything is roses and sunshine. I certainly don't make it far when grieving and in pain. And that's the first step to honoring Jesus in our pain—being very honest about our failure. We shouldn't fear that; God already knows about our sins. That's why the Son of God took on human nature, lived a life of righteousness, died for sins, and rose from the dead. "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners" (1 Timothy 1:15). He wants us to tell him about our sins. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9).
We should also be honest with each other. We can confess, "Honey, it's been really tempting to grow bitter and lash out. I know I hurt you with what I said earlier. Please forgive me." We can ask a trusted friend or pastor for help: "I don't know how to deal with this. I'm really tempted to seek comfort in too much (fill in the blank). I need you to help me look to Jesus in faith."
We can also honor Jesus in miscarriage by reminding our own hearts and telling our neighbor about the hope we have in the gospel. Even though death stings, we have a Savior who will conquer it. So, as we raise these questions and more to the “Father of mercies and the God of all comfort” (2 Corinthians 1:3), we hold out in faith for the day when “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; grief, crying, and pain will be no more, because the previous things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4).
[1] Matthew 28:18-20
[2] Job 1:20-22; Matthew 27:46
[3] Luke 2:50
[4] Luke 3:7-14
