Loss and Lament: Hope Amidst Miscarriage
(1)
First—
watching and waiting,
hoping and praying,
celebrating,
and more waiting, waiting, waiting.
Slowly growing and changing
but mostly wondering and anticipating.
You, Lord, are teaching me,
time after time,
to trust in your divine plan.
Even in the valleys—
Why is this happening?
What are you doing?
Where are you?
That your plans are not my plans
can be a sour truth to swallow.
I can never seem to remember
the hills you’ve carried us through
until we reach the top.
I barely catch my breath and
we do it all over again.
(2)
I’m sitting in a hospital bed waiting for the doctor to come in but pretty certain that I’m having a miscarriage. I’m not sure what they can tell me that I don’t already know in my gut to be true. I try to deny the reality I’m facing, but every so often, a wave of emotions will wash over me and a fresh stream of tears falls down my face. But one thing my heart keeps coming back to is my daughter's Sunday school song. The first verse—“I’ve got that joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart to stay!”—where is that joy now? And every time without fail, she says, “Mommy, I want the peace that passes!” and I know she’s asking me to sing the second verse—“I’ve got the peace that passes understanding down in my heart!”
Lord, like my daughter, I want that peace that passes too!
(3)
I hear you whisper that your plans are not my plans, and I question how such a peace could exist amidst so much sorrow. I try to remember—try to cling to the times I’ve seen you make beauty out of brokenness before.
Thank goodness that your goodness does not depend on our circumstances.
Every day in motherhood,
you are finding new ways to show me how to die to myself.
Every day in motherhood
[in marriage]
[in friendship]
[in servanthood],
you are showing me new ways to surrender to your will.
(4)
What happened?
Did I cause this?
Was my worry just a self-fulfilling prophecy?
Could I have done more?
Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve . . .
How could this pain ever lead to sanctification?
Lord, make me ever more like you.
(5)
Each day is a new surrender—
Learning how to live in service of another.
Even in the midst of loss,
I am surrounded by love and light.
You are always and forever
picking up the pieces of the brokenhearted
and making them somehow beautiful.
(6)
Is there enough room in my heart to feel two seemingly opposite things at once?
We are in a season of hardship and thankfulness. Deep pain and great love. Brokenness and beauty. Though the darkness surrounds us, I can still see the bright stars. I see it in my daughter’s smile, the way she laughs. I see it in my friends’ generosity and my husband’s embrace. I hear it in the soft autumn winds, leaves rustling. The leaves fall and make way for new life. There’s beauty in the darkest of nights if you look for it.
(7)
I hope we meet again
in the light of the celestial place
where everything sad becomes untrue.
Until then, I trust
he is making all things new.[1]
—————————————————————
This poem unfolded slowly at first, in the hospital bed and then during the weeks following my miscarriage, after our pastor pointed my husband and me to the Psalms and challenged us to take our deepest thoughts, longings, and pains to the Lord. The grief of loss during pregnancy is a strange one, because it is often kept hidden from the public eye. What a comfort it is to know that there is nothing that can ever be hidden from the Lord![2]
The word “lament” literally means “to wail.” The Lord invites us to bring our laments to him. In fact, there is a whole book of the Bible dedicated to lament. What is shown in Lamentations is not only deep sorrow but hope in the Lord.[3] It is in the depths of our pain that the Lord often meets us. Even Jesus engaged in lament, crying out to the Father, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46).
Our heavenly Father does not run from pain nor cower in the face of death.[4] Lament can be a form of worship. Following the psalmist and the Savior’s example, crying out to God can change our hearts. It reminds us of our need for salvation—our ultimate hope in the Lord—and can ultimately draw us closer to the love and mercy of our heavenly Father.
[1] 2 Corinthians 4:16-17
[2] Hebrews 4:13
[3] Lamentations 3:21-24
[4] Revelation 1:18
