Grief 04: Miscarriage—An Interview with Abbey Wedgeworth Transcript
This transcript has been edited for clarity.
Laura Wifler: Hey, friends—Laura here. Welcome back to another episode of Risen Motherhood. My sister-in-law, Emily, will be joining me in just a moment. As you likely know, we're in the middle of our Grief series where we're exploring different sorrows and hardships in life. Today, we'll be exploring miscarriage, and we brought on our friend Abbey Wedgeworth to share about the hope of the gospel in this topic.
Abbey Wedgeworth is the author of Held: 31 Biblical Reflections on God's Comfort and Care in the Sorrow of Miscarriage and she's the host of the Held podcast. She's wife to David, and they live on the South Carolina coastline with their three young sons. You can keep up with Abbey's work at abbeywedgeworth.com and find her on Instagram @abbeywedgeworth. She shares so many real-life moments and parenting tips, so I highly recommend finding her there.
As a note, Emily and I were not recording together like we normally do in the R|M offices. We were both home with sick kiddos, so we recorded in our closets, and that means the audio isn't quite as good as normal. We're really sorry about that, but at least you'll be prepared and know that the content is still really good.
Okay, now it's time for the show.
Well, hey, Abbey, welcome to the Risen Motherhood podcast.
Abbey Wedgeworth: This is just such a fun thing to get to do. I'm so glad to be with you guys.
Laura: Oh, we're thrilled to have you here as well. For anyone who might not be familiar with your work, could you just give us a quick flyover of who you are, what your family life looks like, and the work that you're doing right now?
Abbey: Yes. My name is Abbey Wedgeworth. I am wife to David—took vows to him ten years ago. And I'm a homeschooling mom. I have boys two, four, and six. They are feral—it’s like having a bunch of puppies over here. Everyone's touching, rolling around on the floor—please go outside. We live in the South Carolina low country, right in the heart of it, on the marsh. I love to teach the Bible. I'm a writer. My first book Held released in 2020 as a resource for women who have experienced pregnancy loss. Then I have a couple of kids' books releasing in 2023.
That's my professional work. I love to teach women's retreats and speak at MOPS groups, but my favorite place to serve and use my gifts is in my home and my local church context where I teach women's Bible study and lead a discipleship group. That's me in a nutshell.
Emily Jensen: Oh, well, like Laura said, we love having you on and man, that comment about boys—so relatable. Totally with you. One of the resources you mentioned—Held—is something that we want to touch on today, which is the topic of miscarriage. I know that this is so sensitive, and we probably have a lot of women tuning in today that are perhaps just feeling really tender on this topic, and they are feeling the very real weight of sorrow and grief as they even hear that word. Can you help us just by understanding from the Christian perspective why miscarriage is so grievous and so worth our tears and sorrow?
Abbey: I love that you open with that question, because it seems like it should be a no-brainer. Of course, it's sad. I think our first—at least my experience with friends of mine who experienced pregnancy loss—our knee-jerk reaction for some reason is to minimize it. Or even in our comments to one another, like, "Oh, at least you were early." But it is sad.
Two places I go in Scripture that help validate that grief of loss of life in the womb. The first is Exodus 21:22-25, where the living God declares that life in the womb is valuable when he calls for retribution when violence is done to pregnant women that causes the loss of life in their wombs. That shows us God values unborn children.
Then also in Psalm 139, the creator of heaven and earth is the active creator of any of our unborn children, no matter how many days they live within or outside of the womb. That little embryo developed and grew under his attentive eye and his careful hand, and he formed all of his or her inward parts and knit them together and made their tiny form.
Even if these tiny people never live a day outside of our womb, they're fearfully and wonderfully made. They have purpose. They have dignity because they're image bearers, and the loss of the life of a person is always worth grieving. That's why I would say that miscarriage is worth grieving. Miscarriage is the loss of a person. It's not just the loss of a dream or an imagined future. It's the loss of a person, of a child.
Laura: Okay. I already have tears in my eyes. Thank you, Abbey, for just bringing the sobriety of the topic to the forefront. I know that it's even good for us moms who have not experienced miscarriage or been there personally to even get an inch of the grief that I know it is for the mom who does experience it.
I'm curious, Abbey, if you can just talk to us a little bit about how that grief impacts a mom? What are some of the things that she might be feeling in the first weeks, months, or years following that experience? I know it's going to change and vary in there, so even if you could walk us through that a little bit would be helpful.
Abbey: Yes. This is also such a fabulous question and one that I was not prepared for. People say it in a sentence, like, "Oh, I had a miscarriage. Oh, that's sad. I'm sorry." It's traumatic. It's a traumatic experience. I think what makes miscarriage so unique—and it's worth saying that every miscarried child is a unique individual. Every woman who miscarries is a unique individual. There are no two circumstances that are the same.
That's worth saying in discussing this. So when you say, "What will it look like?"—it will look very different for lots of people, but there are some commonalities or things that I think it's helpful to explore. It's a physiological experience. It affects our emotions, it affects our minds, it affects our bodies. We are whole people, and all of these things are connected.
In the first days following miscarriage, usually there's shock. Women find out that they're miscarrying either in what's called a missed miscarriage, which is where everything seems fine—you have all the symptoms, and then you go in for an ultrasound and there's no heartbeat or there's no form or however the baby should be progressing, it just hasn't happened. Then you have to decide what to do from there. Then there are these women who—their first indication is the site of blood. And that's traumatic to see.
I think miscarriage usually begins with shock. Then there's weakness from blood loss. Sometimes there's complications from having to have an operation. If you have to have a D&C because of a miscarriage where the body doesn't fully shed all of what they call the "products of conception," which is just—beyond the baby, there are other things that have to come out medically to avoid infection.
There might be weakness from blood loss, which causes brain fog, but those are like the initial days. I think weeks following a miscarriage—actually I learned it's really common for women who miscarry to experience shingles after. Often, it's the beginning of more complications in the body, like migraines or shingles. There's more suffering that comes from the stress on the body.
I hear from women commonly that they experience sadness or numbness in those weeks that follow, and your hormones change—you go through afterbirth because your body releases a baby or is helped to do so. A lot of women experience postpartum depression or postpartum anxiety in the weeks or months following pregnancy loss. Farther down the road, it can be traumatic—blood loss or, for many women, they see the baby in this process and the site of blood after that can be really triggering. For months after, getting your period can be really hard, not just because you're sad you're not pregnant, but because it's reminiscent of the event.
I've experienced a lot of women saying they feel really frustrated with their lack of progress, like they want to be over it, and it just keeps being hard, or they want to be pregnant again, as if it's salvific or will solve it. Then either that's not happening, or it's happened, and they still are filled with anxiety or sorrow, because the baby doesn't fix it. A baby doesn't heal the loss of another one.
I think, also, there's an element of grieving what your life looks like when it's different than what you anticipated. Whether that's how far apart in age your kids are or when you thought you would be having kids, there's grief that comes with—Elisabeth Elliot says, "Suffering is either having something you don't want or not having something you do."
So, just looking around and being like, "This isn't what I expected for my life or my family. This isn't what I planned for. This isn't what should have been according to when I took a pregnancy test." Those are all things that they might go through. That is just a very small amount, beyond marriage complication and friend stuff, which maybe we'll get to touch on some of that.
Emily: Abbey, we really appreciate you walking us through all of that. Like you said, we're confident it's different for every single mom. Yet, I'm sure it's also comforting to know that the things that a woman experiences after a miscarriage are not unique to her, or she's not the only one. Perhaps the better way to put it: she's not the only one who's ever felt this or experienced this. I'm sure there is some comfort in knowing that a lot of these things, as hard as they are, are normal, and they are how we respond to things that are incredibly sad and traumatic and grievous and affect our bodies.
Another implication sometimes is perhaps on a mom's walk with the Lord. That's true of all different types of suffering. When we experience something that is scary or sad or traumatic, it impacts us in every way, like you were saying. Can you help us understand what kinds of questions and doubts about God miscarriage might bring up for a mother? Then, how does the gospel provide hope in the midst of that?
Abbey: Writing a book on pregnancy loss has given me the opportunity to hear from lots of women. This actually—these questions seem way more consistent, regardless of someone's experience. I think it's because the experience of death in the case of pregnancy loss is so deeply personal. It's so intimate because it happens inside of you. I think when death occurs that way, it just feels so personal.
The questions that arose for me, that I hear a lot of women echo, are just, "Okay, either God is fully in control, where he's not good, or he's good, but he's not fully in control, because this suffering is irreconcilable. Those two things just can't both be true." That's the most common question or frustration that I've seen or experienced. That one seems more intellectual. Then there are other more emotional or personal questions like, "Okay, does God not see? Does he not care? Does he not love me?"
Then there's really exposure of false doctrine too. For me, there definitely was of—I was working with some teen moms at the time, many of whom did not want their babies. I was looking like, "I just don't understand—how do these cards get dealt? We are praying over the development of this child, and it doesn't keep growing, like, really? And other people are conceiving in sin or don't even really want this baby, and their baby keeps growing? What is the point of praying?"
It's just very, very frustrating and confusing. You're asking—how does the gospel provide hope? I think saying those things out loud feels sacrilegious, but it's really an act of faith to speak our questions. We acknowledge God to be big enough to handle them. We acknowledge him to be trustworthy with our souls. It's really courageous to say those things. Laura, I know you've written and spoken so much about doubt. It's really scary. I think sometimes we're like, "Man, this is a slippery slope. If I start asking these questions, where might it lead me? I might lose my faith in the process."
It's so important to voice them, to read, to ask for prayer and help because, really, this is just really human to think these things. You can read the Psalms and find great company in frustration and existential questions. I think Scripture, obviously, is really helpful. And community—remaining tethered and seeking answers and bringing your questions to God rather than processing them away from him. The more we pound on his chest, I think our hands just open to receive answers or open in resignation like, "Well, this just can't be known. There's still comfort in your arms." I think when we don't go to him with questions, we deny ourselves that comfort.
I would say Scripture is really helpful. You look at the life of Joseph or the life of Paul and how much they've suffered and how much God used it—or even maybe more relevant, the instances of fertility and infertility throughout Scripture and the way that God uses the stories of these women that we see so frustrated by longing, who may or may not have experienced miscarriage—we don't know, but it could be encompassed within the "barren womb" that we hear about.
God uses all of these women and their stories to bring about the plan of redemption—to bring about Messiah. The women in his mind that had struggled with issues surrounding childbirth. I think we can see, even though we're on this side of those Bible stories, how God still uses our pain and our suffering and the death of the babies that die within our bodies to accomplish his redemptive purposes, somehow.
There are promises for our suffering in Scripture. There are promises for our pain, and they're really beautiful ones. I think it's really important for us to stick with what Scripture actually says—to claim things as promises that are actually promises. This is the danger, I think, in like the rainbow baby conversation, where it's like, "Oh, you'll get your rainbow." It's not promised. It's just not promised.
There are beautiful and rich and better promises in Scripture, and that's what we have to cling to. Maybe we can't reconcile how he can be good and allow these things to happen, but we know he has a plan. We know he's at work. We know that he declares himself to be good and trustworthy. We have to press into his promises concerning himself and his revelation of his character.
The ultimate way, though, that the gospel brings hope in our suffering is that we have the confidence, as we ask the question like, "Oh, why isn't God doing anything about this?" or "Why hasn't he done anything about this?"—we can look to the cross and know that he has by sending his Son to redeem our suffering. Which looks a lot of different ways on earth, but ultimately, we know we'll be complete when we are freed from the presence of sin and the presence of death in the end, at the day of the Lord.
That's the hope we have—that Christ came to redeem suffering. So when we suffer, even if it sends us into a place of doubt, ultimately it should be the thing that increases our faith and causes us to, more than anything, long for Christ's return, because this is what he came to undo; he came to triumph over death. We can say, "Maranatha, come Lord Jesus," with more longing than ever when we experience death. We can have that hope that doesn't put us to shame.
Laura: Oh, yes, we're over here—praise hands. Just so grateful for that hope. No matter everyone's individual sorrows and sufferings, that is a hope for all of us. I'm so grateful that you've shared that. Can you talk us through a little bit about some of the guilt or shame that a mom might experience when her body seems to be failing her with a child? What hope does Scripture offer her in that area?
Abbey: I’m just so thankful for y'all's questions. They're so insightful, and I think show your care for your listeners that are walking through this. I think there are a couple of different kinds of guilt that can emerge with miscarriage. One is guilt in the case of sinful conception or guilt in—maybe even a woman has had an abortion in the past and then come to faith or then gotten married, and then maybe she's continually losing babies. Maybe this is her first baby she's lost, but there's something in her mind like, "This is a punishment for something I've done."
For that kind of guilt, "There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." If you are in Christ, Christ has fully absorbed the penalty for your sin. There is no wrath left for you from the hand of God for anything you have done or will ever do. I'm glad that we've dealt with that. You just don't have to worry about that. There are consequences for sin, but God is not in the business of punishing his children for sin. He disciplines those he loves, but this is not an instance of being punished. That's just very clear in Scripture with the way God deals with his children.
There's also, I think—and this is harder to talk about—but there's also guilt in the case of carelessness or harmful decisions. When you go to the doctor when you're pregnant, they give you all of these rules about deli meat and whatever, and it's endless. I mean—you can't even keep track of them. I feel like you have to have some degree in pregnancy to be able to follow all the rules, but a woman immediately wonders—it's human to say, "What did I do to cause this?" In many cases, the answer is nothing. Drug addicts have healthy babies all the time that are fully formed and come out of the womb crying.
The reality is: what happens happens, in the providential will of God, and it's not always a result of something you did or didn't do, but in some cases, it is. In some cases, guilt might be founded. I think that's worth mentioning because there's ministry for it, which is that Christ came to redeem our sinful choices and to redeem our sinful selves.
There is no sin that his grace is not big enough to cover, no matter the consequence, even if it results in the death of another person. There's nothing we can do that he won't hold out forgiveness for. There's no testimony that he can't use for the sake of his glory. I mean—what better absolution for guilt than the author of justice telling you that you're okay because of the actions of his Son?
Then you mentioned shame, and this one is so sad and hard for me—shame over your body. For a long time, I've heard, "Oh, motherhood is a woman's highest calling," so when we miscarry, I think we wrestle with these questions: "Is something about me deficient?" We are affected by the fall, and we're human. We're just human. Our bodies are limited. If I got on the floor and tried to do pushups right now, at some point I'm going to give out. I can't do pushups for eternity because my biceps are limited. We're limited. Our bodies are limited. They're affected by the fall.
We can trust God's sovereignty over our bodies. But I think it's important, as believers, that we are only ashamed of things that are actually shameful, and humanity is not one of them. If you want to repent of your sin, that's fine, but you don't have to repent of your body or the things that you can't control.
Then lastly, shame over grief is another one I think is really common. A part of my childhood story is hearing the words, "You're making mountains out of molehills." I heard it in my grief so often in the wake of miscarriage—that "You're making a mountain out of molehill. We're nine months out from this thing. You're still crying all the time. What's wrong with you? Get over it."
I love and have drawn a lot of strength and had a lot of camaraderie with the psalmist in Psalm 23 where he walks through the valley of the shadow of death. And I think it's sweet counsel for us to follow in his footsteps and not run in that place, because the Lord does a special thing in grief in our hearts and lives—that if we're rushing past it or trying to suppress it, I think we don't get to experience, which is his comfort. Which, his Word tells us, when we receive the comfort of the Word, we can then comfort others.
I would encourage the woman who feels shame over her grief to not listen to a society that tells us that life in the womb doesn't matter or isn't a big deal and to really press into the work the Lord wants to do in her in her grief. Instead of running to a place of shame, run to a place of comfort and receive from him—because the more we receive his comfort, the more we're able to give it. That's a special work that he is going to do. It's a special way that he uses our grief on earth.
Emily: It's so helpful to hear you process it that way and to break it down into all these different categories or experiences women might be having—just to talk about how God's grace applies in every single situation and that there's not a situation outside of God's grace and comfort and too far from his mercy. I just love that about the gospel—that truly, our no-matter-whats and even-ifs—they're all covered by the blood of the cross. God welcomes us through Christ in whatever situation it is that we're facing. He gives us even ministry in that as we are ministered to. What a beautiful truth to think on.
As we're talking about grief and miscarriage, one of the things that might come up for women as they're experiencing this is friends along the way that are announcing pregnancies—family members. You've already talked on this show several times about doing ministry with young women who don't even want their babies. How do you deal with the envy that could come up as you see other pregnant women or women with newborns or women who you find out they're pregnant when you are still grieving a very real loss?
Abbey: I want to first just make a distinction that not any negative emotion we experience in reaction to someone else's pregnancy or holding of a newborn is envy. Because, in the same way that the sight of blood can be triggering, seeing a womb that holds life can stir up hard emotions, just because you're sad. And your longing is not wrong. It's not sinful.
Longing for a baby isn't wrong. It's only at the point where it becomes an idol or takes the place of Christ in our heart that it becomes a sin. I would say a word of grace and an encouragement of self-compassion to the person who is triggered by friends of theirs, because I think that can really easily lead us to shame too—ungodly shame.
But I love the words of Abigail Dodds—I hear these all the time in my mind. She said, "We have to be careful not to allow another person's blessing to become our hardship." I think that's a good word, and it is one that drives us to the Holy Spirit to ask for help, because it is hard.
What does that look like practically? I think we have to be—grief is not sin, but it's also not a license to sin, so we have to be willing to do that work of asking the Lord, "Search me and know my heart. Try me and test my thoughts," even if we're grieving—to say, "I don't want to sin even in this really sensitive time"—to help us discern what is a trigger and what is sinful resentment or covetousness. Because we don't want to break his law.
A great example of this comes to mind for me. My sister and I were three weeks apart when we lost our second baby. This is years ago; I still tear up because it was so sad and so painful. She's my dearest friend, and it's very rare that I see her son with my kids and don't think of the baby we lost, because that is the exact place that they would be in age differentiation. The grace that God gave me—that enabled us to really enjoy our friendship still—is allowing me to view the life of my nephew as evidence of his mercy to allow life to flourish in a fallen world. Do you know what a miracle it is, that this side of what happened in the garden, there is life at all?
My baby's death is a result of the fall, but his flourishing is evidence of God's grace. I can look at it and still celebrate it, even if it wasn't what was in my womb. It takes a deep trust in the sovereignty of God and in the goodness of God to be able to look at the reception of others or the gifts that they receive and be able to call them good because we view him as our reference point and not ourselves. Her story is not my story. He's doing a work in her life that's not the work he's doing in mine, but the collective work he's doing is the work of redemption. We can have confidence that, even if we don't see all the pieces, he's at work.
Yes, I think we just have to remain sensitive to the Spirit for those tricky places where we don't know if it's sin or not—just open our hands and ask him to cover it and to help us.
Laura: That's really helpful, Abbey, and I think really great truth just to share for anyone who's struggling through comparison and through envy. We all are facing things that we see others have and we do not, and it is hard, but I really appreciate the truth of just seeing things—like flipping them upside down. And the upside-down kingdom that we're in—of recognizing the graces and the ways that things aren't as they should be in some ways. And it's more that life does exist at all and that there are good things at all. That is a really a huge paradigm shift that I'm sitting over here still chewing on, so I really appreciate that.
Something I know with griefs—and I know with miscarriage there are a lot of dates and milestones that come with. There's, of course, the day that you conceive, the day that you lose your child, the day that your child was supposed to be born that you were anxiously waiting for—probably more in there that I can't even predict—or Christmases and just so many things that I'm sure a mom is thinking about and brings to mind that what should have been with that child. Can you walk us through a little bit of some good advice for how to handle those difficult dates or what to do on those milestones?
Abbey: I'm so glad you bring this up. I think the hardest is the first year because immediately we start making plans for car seats or whatever. And that's wise stewardship—that's not getting ahead of yourself or, you know, you make preparation for what's to come in wisdom.
For us, I remember I was supposed to have a really big belly at Halloween, and we had planned a family costume, but it was really hard for me when October came and we couldn't do the family costume, because my belly wasn't as big as we thought that it would be. That was a really hard day because it was flat. Conversely, the weeks following were really hard because my belly was still big, and it was supposed to be flat because there was no baby anymore. It just is hard. Those dates come up—like all of the ones that you mentioned.
I think—a couple words of advice. One, I would process those milestones through prayer and honesty with the Lord: "This is not what I thought this day would look like. This is the day that you ordained for me." 'Should be' is a dangerous phrase. It's what 'would be' in his providence and his good plan for your life.
I think we can wrestle knowing that he's good and wrestle knowing that he cares. We can go to him with our sorrow and also ask him to help us trust his will on those difficult dates that don't look like we thought they would.
I think also I would counsel women to process those days with remembrance and by making space. My best friend lost her baby girl a couple of years ago at twenty-one weeks. They are careful to commemorate her and to remember her. They do a special thing as a family on her delivery date. They remember her by making space for her and also by having a time of thanksgiving for her. I think that's something that isn't really common in this type of loss—but to thank God for the lives of these babies, however brief they may have been.
When I miscarried is Cinco de Mayo. It's marked by the calendar anyway. I'm always seeing some sombreros and stuff, and it takes me back to that place. I always try to make that time a time of thanksgiving for the life of my baby and for what God has done through the life of this baby. I think holding space, practicing remembrance, offering thanksgiving, and just processing in prayer is how I would counsel people to approach those dates.
Emily: What helpful, practical tips. Even just like you're saying, making space—I think, so often, even as you've had this conversation and other conversations, there is a sense of, "I need to be over this by now. I'm already busy. I don't have space." Even giving permission to know in advance when Cinco de Mayo comes up, I'm going to need space that day, whatever that looks like, to praise, to remember, to be sad is so helpful.
I know different types of grief that I've walked through—sometimes it sneaks up on me, and it was a special day, or it was a doctor's appointment day or whatever, and I just think, "I could have known that that was going to hit me today." Maybe not in this way, but it's helpful to think, "No, I could make space those days and recognize that could happen."
Abbey: What's funny too, Emily, is my body always knows. Even before I see the sombreros and stuff, I'll get like a little weepy in early May and just don't really know why, and then I see and then, "Oh." So the calendar can really be a kindness to ourselves even if we think it's not coming.
Emily: I think it's so fascinating—just an aside, but so fascinating—how our bodies respond to things before we're even really aware sometimes of what we're thinking or feeling. That's a whole ‘nother show we could have.
Abbey: It's a gift, though. It's a gift.
Emily: I know. Okay, so switching gears a little bit, Abbey, do you find that there is a survivor's guilt—I don't know if that's the right term or not—for moms that go on to have a pregnancy, deliver that baby, after they've had one or maybe recurrent miscarriages? If so, can you just tell us about that and provide some encouragement for those moms as they both—I'm assuming—just rejoice in the life that they have, but then also, they're still grieving the loss that they experienced.
Abbey: Yes, this wasn't the case for me, but I think it's especially complicated—and I'm so glad you brought this up. When you have a child that wouldn't exist if your other child was alive, that is weird. That's really complicated and hard to process.
This friend of mine that I mentioned who lost the baby girl—she really experienced that having a baby girl. Even at the ultrasound where she found out it was a baby girl, she had guilt because she was like, "Oh, this would be easier if it's a boy because I feel like I'm replacing her."
One way I counseled her was, "You are not God. You are not replacing anybody. He is sovereign over who's coming out of your womb and who's growing in there. Receive. Receive as a gift."
I think, in the same way, that when we consider envy and guard against it, we have to say, "That woman's story is not my story." We have to realize that these babies are unique individuals with numbered days—days that are numbered by a loving God and a wise God. We have to treat them as different people and really give them that dignity.
In the same way, I wouldn't compare my living children because it's so dangerous. Don't compare them. Obviously, they're related, but their lives are distinct, so we can hold space for them. If it feels like you're not holding space to grieve the baby you lost because your womb is filled with someone else, you can hold space in your heart, even if there's not space in your womb. I think we as a society just need to get better at tension.
We can rejoice and be sorrowful at the same time. That really helps us be better, more faithful members of community. Romans 12—rejoicing and weeping all at once. That's always happening all at once, and it's possible for you to be rejoicing and weeping all at once. Yes, it's not disloyal. I think you can trust the sovereignty of God over the timing of their lives and the days of their lives.
Laura: That's a huge encouragement, Abbey. Just good truths to remember—all of this. I am curious if, as we close here, you have any final encouragement that you feel like you would want to just share with a mom who has experienced a miscarriage and is perhaps still in the thick of grief? What would you say to her?
Abbey: A few things: first, don't rush your grief. Let God lead you through it in his sovereign goodness and in his timing. Two: God uses your pain. He'll use your pain. Nothing is wasted in the economy of grace.
Thirdly, I would just encourage her that God's plan of redemption cannot be miscarried. As we place our hope in Christ, even if we have felt foolish for rejoicing over two lines and walking into an ultrasound room where there's no heartbeat or telling people we're pregnant and then having to follow up and look over our texts to see who we need to let know that we're actually not—if we've experienced that shame or feeling to be jerked around, God's plan of redemption cannot be miscarried. It is a hope. When we put our hope in Christ and his return, it's a hope that will not put us to shame.
If I could, I would close just by reading over her Isaiah 65:17-21: "For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in that which I will create; for behold, I create Jerusalem to be a joy, and her people to be a gladness. I will rejoice in Jerusalem and be glad in my people; no more shall be heard in it the sound of weeping and the cry of distress. No more shall there be in it an infant who lives but a few days, or an old man who does not fill out his days. For the young man shall die a hundred years old, and the sinner a hundred years old shall be accursed. They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit."
I love that imagery of "They will plant vineyards and eat the fruit." Our efforts won't be frustrated, our longings won't be disappointed, and babies won't die too young. That is what Christ came to do and where we can settle and rest.
