Retreat Registration Is Now Open: He Restores My Soul

There are some passages of Scripture that become especially precious after the death of a baby. Not because we hadn’t read them before, but because grief has a way of opening our eyes to truths we never knew we would need quite so desperately. In suffering, verses we’ve read a hundred times suddenly become lifelines, and promises we once appreciated become the very words that carry us through another day.

Psalm 23 has become one of those passages for me and the other women on our team. It’s only six verses long, yet I don’t know of another chapter in Scripture that has comforted more weary saints throughout the centuries. It has been read aloud beside hospital beds and gravesides. It has been prayed through tears and clung to in seasons of deep suffering. It has steadied fearful hearts and reminded God’s people, again and again, that they have never walked alone.

                                             Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through
the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

 You may have whispered these words over your own empty arms, had them read at your baby’s funeral, or clung to them on days when getting out of bed felt impossible.

For us Hope Moms, these familiar words of David carry a particularly beautiful invitation because after our babies die, so many of us find ourselves longing for someone to guide us when the road ahead feels uncertain. We long for someone to care for us because we’re exhausted in ways sleep can’t fix. We long for someone to still our minds, quiet our anxious hearts, carry us when we’re weary, and reassure us that even though everything feels different now, we have not been abandoned.

Isn’t it beautiful that those are exactly the things a shepherd does? Before Psalm 23 ever tells us what the Shepherd gives, it tells us who He is. “The Lord is my shepherd.” Everything else flows from that.

Because He is our Shepherd, He leads us beside still waters when our hearts feel restless. Because He is our Shepherd, He walks with us through valleys we never would have chosen. Because He is our Shepherd, we do not have to fear being abandoned in our darkest moments. And because He is our Shepherd…”He restores my soul.”

I’ve been thinking about those four words for months now. Not simply, “He restores.” Not, “He restores souls.” But, “He restores my soul.” What a deeply personal promise. David isn’t speaking in abstract theological ideas. He’s testifying to the faithfulness of a Shepherd he has come to know personally. The Shepherd who restored David’s weary soul is the very same Shepherd who gently restores ours.

I love that Scripture doesn’t tell us our Shepherd restores our circumstances. There are some things on this side of heaven that will never be restored. Our babies are still deeply missed. Their empty bedrooms remain empty. Birthdays still come with no little fingers digging into the frosting on their cakes. We still long for the life we imagined and the milestones we never got to celebrate. Until Christ returns, grief remains part of our story, but grief is not the whole story.

While the Lord may not restore every circumstance today, He promises to restore so many things that are extremely precious. He restores weary souls. He restores hope when grief has drained it away. He restores trust when loss has shaken what we thought we knew. He restores strength when we are exhausted from carrying what no mother should ever have to carry. He restores peace when fear and anxiety threaten to overwhelm us. He restores perspective by gently reminding us who He is, even when we cannot understand what He is doing.

Little by little, day by day, year after year, our Good Shepherd faithfully continues His work in us. That doesn’t mean our grief disappears, that we stop missing our babies, or that the valley suddenly becomes easier to walk through. Psalm 23 never promises those things. Instead, it offers us something far better. It promises that we will never walk the valley alone. In fact, the greatest gift of Psalm 23 isn’t green pastures or still waters, but the Shepherd Himself.

As our team began praying about the 2027 Hope Mommies Retreat, we kept coming back to Psalm 23. Again and again, the Lord drew our hearts to these simple words… “He restores my soul” …and we knew this was where He was inviting us to linger.

This February, we’ll spend the weekend walking slowly through Psalm 23 together. We’ll make space for lament because the valley is real, we’ll worship because our Shepherd is worthy, we’ll remember our babies because their lives matter, and together, we’ll lift our eyes to the One who has faithfully shepherded us every step of the way.

My prayer isn’t simply that you’ll leave encouraged. My prayer is that you’ll leave knowing your God more deeply. My prayer is that when you return home, you’ll be more convinced than ever that He has never left you, never stopped loving you, never forgotten your precious baby, and never ceased His gentle work of restoring your weary soul.

If your heart feels weary and you’ve been longing for a place where your baby will be remembered, your grief will be understood, and your eyes will be lifted to Heaven, I would love to invite you to join us this February.

It would be our joy to know your baby’s name, to honor your story, to worship alongside you, and to spend a weekend lingering in the beautiful promise that our God restores weary souls.

Will you come?

Jennie is the Executive Director for Hope Mommies. She and her husband Brian live in Oregon and have four children together— Trenton, Paige who has been in Heaven with Jesus since 2010, Mason, and Cora. If you were to knock on her front door today, you’d find her in something comfortable drinking a hot cup of tea, while trying to figure out how to balance all the things that make up a life. She enjoys spending time in God’s word, fresh flowers, board games with her kids, cooking, and evening walks in her neighborhood. She adores being a new creation in Christ and prays she reflects Him well on this earth.