Secured {Hope Mommies 2018 Retreat Theme}
“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’ Surely He will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”
Psalm 91:1-4 NIV
This psalm of protection is where the theme for the upcoming Hope Mommies Retreat comes from. Secured. We would love to have you join us March 9-11, 2018 as we look deeply into Psalm 91 to discover all the ways our babies, our grief, our hope, our salvation, our present comfort, and our eternal futures are all Secured through the precious blood of Jesus and the promises of our Abba Father.
When a routine ultrasound discovered that my daughter’s heart stopped beating I had no words. No eloquent prayer to offer. Just a heart cry of “Come, Lord Jesus” under my breath, in between unceasing tears. I don’t know if you lost your precious baby to miscarriage, stillbirth like me, or loss after birth, but one thing I know is that your prayer in that moment of distress probably sounded a whole lot like mine.
It’s been seven years since that day, and more than anything I am thankful that when she died I had a God I could cry out to (Psalm 18:6), a God more powerful than I could fathom (Isaiah 40:28), and a God who was my refuge and my hiding place (Psalm 46:1). When her body left this earth, the sunshine felt scarce in my life. I felt alone, overlooked, abandoned, and unloved. But I can see now, that I wasn’t any of these things. I hope you know that neither were you.
When we feel unloved and overlooked we can read His Word and remember that we don’t need to anxiously protect ourselves because God is our ultimate protection, rest, security, refuge, and source of rescue. Our God spoke mountains into existence, gave the sea boundary, knit us together in the womb, and sent His Son to pay our debt. Our job is to pick up our cross and follow Him, until the day our faith becomes sight.
Through spending time in God’s Word, we can learn that He can be trusted (Psalm 33:4), that He keeps His promises (Hebrews 10:23), and that He gives us rest (Matthew 11:28-29). He doesn’t keep storms from entering our lives, but He does promise to be with us in them (Isaiah 43:2). We are never alone. What a comfort it is, that this wonderful God, who counts the stars and calls them by name, is not far off and distant from us. When we abide He is near, and we grant Him access to make a way for us in the wilderness, to endure the long seasons of grief, want, and waiting. We are not alone in our suffering (Psalm 34:18; Deuteronomy 8:2-4). All glory be to God.
Friends, even though our hearts know all of the above is true, the waiting is hard. The wanting is hard. Some days my bones ache from the weight of grief, and I know yours do too. My soul longs for the day when I will have zero reasons to cry. A day when my heart is clean and my worship is pure to the God who created me. A day when there are no more lies from the enemy whispered in my ears. No more brokenness. No more chaos. No more death. I yearn for a redeemed body—for my daughter, for myself, for you, for your children.
I know the death of your children has you longing for your forever home with Christ, and I know that none of us will ever feel fully at home in this world, because we were made for the coming one. Waking up each day can feel like an insurmountable task. In the rubble of our losses, it’s easy to wish for heaven to come down and take all the pain away. But, following Christ does not inoculate us from pain and suffering in this life. The Bible tells us many times that we can expect trials (1 Peter 4:12). What is amazing is that even amidst the broken dreams and suffocating realities of our grief, we can place our hope in a God who has already claimed a victorious overcoming of sin and death. When we remember who He is and what He has done for us, it shifts the focus of our hearts, and our souls that were once downcast within us, can’t help but sing His praise!
One of the hardest parts of grief, and maybe the Christian life, is that we can do nothing in and of ourselves to heal the broken places that ache to be redeemed. Our greatest suffering in this life is unfortunately not the death of our babies, rather the separation from our Father in heaven. Our great need is for a Savior who can reconcile our lost hearts back to a holy God, and no matter how hard we try, we can’t save ourselves. Nothing we accomplish in our own flesh will ever make us blameless and acceptable to God. We can’t make ourselves holy, sanctified, and pure. Only He can.
He commands us to be still and know that He is God. But, stillness is often a state that we don’t like to be in, especially in our grief. The stillness and the quiet seem to be when the hot tears stream down our cheeks and the sorrow and despair literally become weight on our chests. But, in the stillness and in the quiet places are where we best position ourselves for God to work. It is there that we need His Word the most, for His Word is where we learn His heart. His intentions. His holiness. His redemptive plan. It’s where we are reminded that we don’t secure our standing before Him with any guarantees we make or good works completed. Our very lives are secured because He holds us in the safety of His covenant, the same covenant He has kept for generations gone by, and will keep for all generations He wills to come.
Our hearts can rest secure in every one of His promises, for they are true and everlasting. When the nights feel dark and the valley seems long, we can look to Psalm 91, again and again, to remind us of His unfailing, protective love for us. Sisters, we groan over the death of our children, but we don’t give up, as we confidently wait on the timing of our God, the One who has promised and secured our full redemption through the blood of Jesus Christ. It is Christ alone who saves the lost, heals the brokenhearted, binds up the wounded, and enables us to do the difficult task of returning to normal life after such devastating loss.
We have an imperishable hope and a secured future. We have been given a call to be holy and set apart. Christ Himself has given us the freedom to rejoice, no matter our earthly circumstances, and we can be glad that His work to lead us securely through this hurt is steady and true, no matter how we may feel. God does not waste an ounce of our hurt—and if we will only allow Him—He can use even the deaths of our babies to change, mature, and sanctify us to more fully see things the way they are. The way He sees them, with eternal perspective. Maybe then our sufferings can become a holy beckoning to unashamedly follow the Lord, so that we might lead others to the dwelling of the Most High, the rest underneath His wings.
Registration for the Hope Mommies 2018 Retreat will open October 1 >> HERE
- Jennie
Hope Mom to Paige Marie
Jennie is the Executive Director for Hope Mommies. She and her husband Brian live in Washington State and have three precious children together—2 boys in their arms and a daughter in Heaven with Jesus. On an average day you can find her in jeans and a t-shirt, drinking tea and dancing to worship music in the kitchen with her kiddos. She loves the beach, going to the movies, and pumpkin everything!
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