KATHRYN MANN | GUEST
Editor’s Note: The following contains Kathryn’s story about miscarriage.
“Kathryn, it’s not looking good today.”
These words still haunt me today. Several months ago, I was eight weeks pregnant. Just a few days earlier, my husband and I had gone in for our first appointment. We were full of nerves and excitement.
Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. What a privilege to hear our baby’s heart beating–a heart so small yet so strong, creating the most exquisite melody.
After a little symptom scare, I went back to the clinic to hear the worst news possible. My baby’s heart had stopped beating.
I proclaim God’s goodness every day. Even when my father passed away two years ago, I felt my faith strengthened, and I wanted to encourage others more than ever to trust Him. But the death of my baby shook me. As a mother, you are deeply bonded to your baby from the beginning, and the loss of a baby in the womb is the heartbreaking loss of your child. To the eyes of the world, I do not look like a mother. I have no baby bump. I have no baby in my arms. I do not carry around a diaper bag. Rather, I despair the emptiness of my womb, my arms long to hold my baby, and I carry the weight of grief on my shoulders.
From the very moment I found out I was growing a babe in my womb, I never ceased praying for my baby, especially for my baby’s heart. Lord, keep that heart growing and beating strong.
And then to hear the heart was beating no more…why had God not answered my prayers?
Never had I prayed more helplessly and fervently than when praying for my child. And never had I doubted my faith more than when God did not answer as I hoped. Is God really good? How could He let this happen to such a helpless, tiny human being? Why would He let this happen to my husband and me? If God is all-powerful and sovereign, I know He could have kept my baby’s heart beating. So why didn’t He?
My heart wrestles with these doubts. My faith is being stretched and tested and refined. Yet, God continues to graciously lead me to what is true. It is the only calm to my aching soul. It’s what anchors me when the waves of grief threaten to unmoor me.
These are just a few truths that steady my heart:
God is good and faithful.
God isn’t good because He keeps hearts beating. He isn’t faithful because He answers prayers. God is good because that’s who He is. It’s inherent to His character. He only does what is good. He can’t not do good. “You are good and do good; teach me your statutes” (Psalm 119:68).
I dream that we would have a “rainbow child” but I cling to the rainbow making God—the One who is ever faithful to His eternal promises (Gen. 9:13-17). God is good all the time, and all the time God is good!
This life is not about me, and motherhood is not the chief end of my life.
This is a hard truth, but one I remind myself of each day. I wanted more than anything to be the first face my baby saw. I am crushed that I never got to look into my baby’s eyes nor hold him/her in my arms. However, the first face my Palmer saw was that of Jesus, He was the first to hold my baby in His hands. Who better to cradle my baby than the Creator, Father, and Savior?
This world is not about me. God is at the center, and His glory is the aim. My most important role in life is not to mother a baby but to glorify and enjoy God forever (WSC 1; Psalm 73:24-26).
We weren’t meant for death. We were meant for life!
Whenever we face the death of a loved one, we are reminded how unnatural this “natural” occurrence is. Death is a part of life. It happens to us all. Yet it feels so wrong. Well, that’s because it is wrong. We were created by God for life, and because of the Fall, we now face death. But God.
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. (Eph. 2:4-7).
Our hope lies in the fact that Jesus conquered death when He rose from the grave. I will mourn the death of my precious baby Palmer every day on this earth, yet I rejoice in the fact that my mourning has an expiration date. There will come a day when we will no longer grieve (Rev. 21:4). Can you imagine? Because of what Christ has done for us, we will live forever in His presence—the most wonderful place to be. I will see my Palmer face-to-face, and we will relish in glory and union with our loving Creator forevermore.
Whenever my grief washes over me, I sing these truths to my heart and relish in the grace of God that brings life to the brokenness of this world. Perhaps you know such grief yourself. May the Lord comfort you with His goodness today.
What truth can calm the troubled soul?
God is good, God is good
Where is His grace and goodness known?
In our great Redeemer’s blood
Who holds our faith when fears arise?
Who stands above the stormy trial?
Who sends the waves that bring us nigh
Unto the shore? The rock of Christ
Oh, sing hallelujah
Our hope springs eternal
Oh, sing hallelujah
Now and ever we confess
Christ, our hope in life and death
Unto the grave, what will we sing?
“Christ, He lives, Christ, He lives!”
And what reward will Heaven bring?
Everlasting life with Him
There we will rise to meet the Lord
Then sin and death will be destroyed
And we will feast in endless joy
When Christ is ours forevermore
(Christ Our Hope in Life and Death, Keith & Kristyn Getty and Matt Papa)
Photo by Krists Luhaers on Unsplash
