Well, two weeks ago I thought this post would be much different. I thought I would put up a picture of this positive pregnancy test with all the warm sentiments of expecting a rainbow baby, telling you how excited I was to be able to have another child, how I am expecting the best Christmas gift ever for 2020, maybe even laugh a little that we were having a quarantine baby…
But what I thought is no more and instead my caption is this: I was honored to carry another little life, but only for a few days. I had a miscarriage… again.
Of course, the moment I realized my baby was gone, all my plans and wishes and thoughts for them were gone too. I was so excited for this baby… even more excited because I already had a miscarriage before so that must increase my chances of keeping this one, right? Maybe, but not this time.
In God’s providence, and kindness really, I listened to a podcast on the book of Lamentations the day before I miscarried. You might be surprised, but it was so encouraging. (You can listen to it here.)
The hope that God gives in Lamentations 3:22-23 has been an anchor for my soul this last week. It says, “The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.”
My hope is that God’s mercy is new every morning.
He gives us mercy each and every day. Enough mercy to face whatever may come our way. My hope is in His compassion that I will need to face the days ahead without my baby. The sorrow that may overwhelm won’t when I have this hope as my anchor.
And the same is true for you, friend. If you are facing loss–even a miscarriage like me–remember that God’s mercy is new for you every morning. He gives grace to us each and every day. And His grace and mercy can get you through what you are facing.
And not only does God give us this wonderful hope in Lamentations, but He also gives us comfort in the midst of our suffering.
You know the verse about how God keeps all our tears in a bottle? I also read it this week and it’s meaning is much fuller now.
Fuller because losing a child is hard. Even though they are not really lost, I know that my babies are with my Savior, it is painful. And even though I only knew this child for a few days before they were gone, it hurts. And, friend, even though I know that God is in control, that He is sovereign over every life, and I hold onto the same hope that ferried me through my first miscarriage, my heart aches and the tears come.
But there are two reasons I’ve found that make Psalm 56:8 very comforting in the midst of this loss. It is another anchor for my soul. So I want to share those reasons with you.
1. God Catches Our Tears
In order to keep all our tears in His bottle, the Lord must first be there to catch them. And that is the truth. God is there with us in our pain and sorrow. He never leaves our side (Hebrews 13:5). He has numbered the hairs on our heads (Matthew 10:30). And He is there for every single tear, ready to catch it in His bottle.
After seeing God’s effort to know us in this way, Spurgeon said, “How condescending is the Lord! How exact his knowledge of us! How generous his estimation! How tender his regard!” (See full quote here.)
And even more so than being there with us, Jesus has experienced so much grief on our behalf. Can you imagine how big the bottle of Jesus’ tears must be?
Hebrews 4:15 says that we have a High Priest, Jesus, who can sympathize with ALL of our pain because He endured the same on this earth.
So He knows my pain, He’s been here to catch my tears, He’s with me.
2. God keeps Our Tears.
God will keep our tears in His bottle until the end. Revelation 21:4 says that He will wipe them all away. In the new heaven and the new earth all will be made right and the Lord will wipe away all our tears.
Because God knows everything, He has a record of our tears. He doesn’t let them fall by the wayside or go unnoticed. No, He saves them so that He can wipe them away from our eyes. He will clear His tear ledger and complete our sorrow by wiping it all away in His new, perfect kingdom.
My friend said that “pain cuts openings in our heart, deep gashes, through which the Spirit of God can enter more freely and fill us more completely.”
While this painful, sorrowful, gash in my heart is so very hard, I am clinging to my Savior so that He can enter more freely and fill me more completely.
I now have three babies, but I only get to hold one.