Comforted By His Word
It’s human nature to want to be heard and understood. We tend to gravitate towards people who are in the same stages of life as we are in. It’s easier to effortlessly relate to someone when they are walking a very similar path as you are. I never realized quite how much I relied on these relationships built on shared experiences, though, until the days and weeks after Paige went home to Jesus.
“I don’t even know what to say. I’m just so sorry.” Those were the heartfelt words I heard over and over again in the weeks following the loss of our Paige Abigail. I appreciated them and understood—I had no words to express this new reality either. I learned very quickly that there were just no words that could truly take away the pain after the loss of a child. All those earthly words of comfort my friends and family continued to share with me were just that—earthly, human, and imperfect. In all honesty, most of the time I didn’t even know what I needed them to say. I didn’t know what I needed to hear. But God knew. All along, He was patiently waiting for me to just invite Him in and rely most heavily on Him.
After saying goodbye to our sweet girl, I was surrounded with more love and support than I could have ever asked for. My family begged daily for opportunities to be at my side to physically show me their love and support. My friends showered me with prayers, visits, and gifts to remind me how much Paige was loved. They all cried with me and prayed over me. They constantly pointed me back to our Father. My husband caught every single tear, listened lovingly to every pain of my heart, lamented and hoped with me, and felt the sting of the loss of our daughter right alongside of me. Texts reminding me, “you’re not alone,” came in daily. God knew I needed them in the exact ways that they showed up for me. Despite all of that though, there were still days sprinkled throughout when I found myself feeling so alone. I yearned to be able to pour out my soul to someone who understood every aspect of this new stage of life I had entered.
Quickly and faithfully, God led me to Hope Mommies—to a small Hope Group with women who each held their own stories of child loss. As these fellow moms caught my tears while also aching to hold their own babies in their arms, God closed the gap of loneliness a little bit more. But even this group of women couldn’t take the entire sting of loneliness away. None of our stories were exactly the same. Each of our hearts ached in very unique ways. I was still longing for something more.
Then, one day as I sat curled up in my prayer chair at home, fighting back tears yet again, I tried to figure out who I should call to catch my tears this time. I didn’t want to cry alone again, and I didn’t want to burden the same people over and over again with my grief. I wanted someone to just “get it” without me even having to explain. But who? Almost instantly, it felt as though God ever so gently tapped me on my shoulder and said, “I’m here if you need me.”
It was the most loving invitation. An invitation to close the gap of loneliness completely. Of course, He knew me and understood me better than I even knew myself. Why hadn’t I given it all to Him sooner? All the times when I felt like I was crying alone, He was actually catching each tear. He had been there waiting all along for me to lean on Him, but He wasn’t frustrated that it had taken me so long to look His way. He was just waiting, arms open wide.
I knew I needed to start diving into God’s Word—that was where I would find my strength and understanding. It was the beginning of a new level of relationship with the Lord. He would reveal a new depth of His love for me through His Word. All along, the effortless conversation that I longed for, where I would be heard and understood completely, was one upward glance away.
Over the following weeks and months, when those pangs of loneliness crept in, I began running to my Bible to hear from God through His Word. I searched for comfort and strength in these conversations with this mighty Father of ours, and found love note after love note tucked inside the pages of His Word. Time and time again, He showed up for me. He told me that I was heard and understood, loved and never alone.
When I cried out and asked if I’d ever find joy again, He told me, “The God of all grace who called you to His eternal glory through Christ [Jesus] will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you after you have suffered a little” (1 Peter 5:1). This grief would not last forever.
When I could barely get out of bed and knew that I might not be able to hide the tears at work that day, He told me, “Those who sow in tears will reap with cries of joy. Those who go forth weeping, carrying sacks of seed, will return with cries of joy, carrying their bundled sheaves” (Psalm 126:5-6). I needed to keep working faithfully through the tears, and the joy would come.
When I wondered who was listening, He told me, “Give ear to my words, O Lord; understand my sighing. Attend to the sound of my cry, my King and my God! For to You I will pray, Lord; in the morning You will hear my voice; in the morning I will plead before You and wait” (Psalm 5:2-4). He was listening to every sigh, cry, and question I offered.
When I told Him how scared I was to celebrate the holidays without our Paige here with us, He told me, “It is the Lord who goes before you; He will be with you and will never fail you or forsake you. So do not fear or be dismayed” (Deuteronomy 31:8). He would provide me with the strength and peace to get through the tough days ahead—He was already there waiting for me.
And when I simply sobbed out loud, aching to hold Paige, He reminded me, “Darkness is not dark for you, and night shines as the day. Darkness and light are but one. You formed my inmost being; You knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise You, because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are your works! My very self You know. My bones are not hidden from You, When I was being made in secret, fashioned in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw me unformed; in Your book all are written down; my days were shaped, before one came to be” (Psalm 139:12-16). Paige was one of God’s wonderful works! He made her for a purpose and will even use this pain for good. He loves her even more than me…unbelievable!
When no one else’s words satisfied the ache or eased the grief, as desperately as they tried, God’s did.
He used my weakness—my loneliness in this season of grief—to draw me even closer to Him, to a deeper reliance on His Word and His Presence. Not only is He my Provider, my God of hope and mercy, my loving Father and Protector, but He is also my faithful friend. The friend who hears and understands and is always present. With Him, the loneliness of grief lost its sting.
You, sweet friend, are not alone.
- Anna
Hope Mom to Paige Abigail
Anna lives in Houston, TX and is a wife to Brendan, mom to hope baby Paige, and preschool teacher to a room full of four-year-olds. She finds joy in traveling with her husband, reading two or three books at a time, and sipping a strong cup of coffee at any local coffee shop. “Choose Hope” is Anna’s motto to live by, and she finds her daily strength through God’s Word and faithfulness.
We would be honored to share your story as a Hope Mom on our blog. On Saturdays we feature Hope Moms’ stories in order to showcase God’s faithfulness even in the midst of such deep sorrow. If you would like to have your story shared on our blog for this purpose, learn more and submit here.
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