Choosing to Draw Near

I walked down the hall as tears began to form in the corners of my eyes. It had been just a few days since I had learned that the babe I was carrying in my womb was already gone from me. Another still heart. Another journey through grief and loss.

Moments earlier I had been talking with a friend at church. She too had experienced the loss of a child, and I had been looking forward to connecting with her, knowing that she understood the heartache I was enduring. But throughout our entire conversation, she never spoke of my loss. Even when I mentioned how difficult of a week it had been for me, she changed the subject by telling me about the mischief her dog had gotten into earlier that day.

Broken. Discouraged. Alone.

There were times in my grief when it felt like everyone around me had withdrawn and left me to navigate through the sorrow on my own. Somedays it seemed as though people were trying to avoid speaking of my losses at all costs. I would receive questioning glances when I would say the names of my precious babies—as if they believed that my babies’ short lives didn’t warrant the effort of naming them in the first place.

Dismissed. Wounded. So very lonely.

My friends and family had not truly abandoned me. Quite the contrary. I received countless calls, texts, and cards from people just wanting to let me know that I was being prayed for. Meals were brought over, flowers were delivered, and thoughtful gifts were given. I was well loved and cared for in my sorrow. But with the smallest, insensitive comment I could so quickly and easily lose sight of the support and comfort I was being shown on a daily basis. I would almost instantly feel alone all over again. Grief has a way of clouding the lens in which you view your circumstances, doesn’t it?

Even those who came across as being insensitive were doing their best to comfort me in their own way. Some were trying to cheer me up by keeping my mind off of my losses, not realizing that there is never a time when my babies were far from my thoughts. Others just had no idea what to say, so they chose silence rather than the risk of saying the “wrong” things. But despite their best intentions, their silence often felt like withdrawal from my grief-tainted perspective.

In the days and weeks directly following the deaths of my babies, I secured as much time as I could to be in God’s Word. It was there, in the pages of Scripture, that the cries of my lonely heart were answered. Day after day, as my tears poured out at His feet, the Lord gathered the broken pieces of my heart and mended me as He wrapped me ever closer in His comforting embrace. He held me in His arms when it felt like everyone else held me at arms length. As I continued to press into Him, He continued to draw near to me.

“Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” James 4:8

My tears did not go unnoticed by Him. My sorrow was not unknown to Him. In the midst of devastation and loneliness, God made His faithful presence more fully known to me as I chose in return to draw near to Him. So even when it felt like no one around me could relate to the suffering I had endured, I could rest in the nearness of God. As I sought His presence, I found fullness of joy, security, and hope.

What an extraordinary promise we have been given. As we draw near to the Lord, He draws near to us. Dear sister, our grief can drive us to either pursue or reject God’s presence in our lives. Take some time to examine your heart. Are you seeking God’s presence in the midst of your sorrow? Are you drawing near to Him amidst the heartache? When it seems like everyone else has abandoned you, your Creator and King will come near. He will not leave you alone.

“But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all Your works.” Psalm 73:28

The entire narrative of the Bible is filled with astonishing accounts of what God has done in order to draw near to His people. But the climax was reached when He sent His Son to suffer and die so that all who choose to believe in Christ could experience His eternal nearness. Through Christ’s death on the cross, we have gained complete and free access to the very throne of God, and the only reality—this is, His presence—that can completely satisfy our weary souls. His presence is our refuge.

So let us draw near, you and I. Let us press into the One who is waiting for us with His arms stretched wide. For in His presence, we will find hope.

Ashlee is the Editorial Coordinator for Hope Mommies and author of I AM (Hope Mommies, 2017) and Identity (Hope Mommies, 2018). She and her husband, Jesse, live in Milwaukee with their children—five on earth and two in heaven.

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