Serve One Another: Her Story

I arrived at the doctor’s office and was almost immediately called back for my ultrasound. But as the first glimpse of this precious little one appeared on the monitor, I knew in my heart that something was not right. He was not as big as I had expected for being 14 weeks. And he was completely still. Schmidt babies are never still.

After a few moments of searching, our ultrasound tech confirmed what I already knew to be true. His heart was not beating, and mine was aching.

I was moved into another room to wait to meet with other nurses and doctors who would tell me what to expect in the coming days and weeks. As I sat in the silence, feeling as though I couldn’t breathe, I realized that my husband was still unaware of the sorrow that had come upon us. How do you tell someone over the phone that their baby has died? How could I find the words to tell him that we would not be meeting this sweet baby on this side of eternity?

When I finally left the doctors’ office several hours after I had anticipated being there, I wept. All the way home I wept.  And when I walked in the house and sat down on the couch next to my husband, Jesse, we both wept together. And at that moment a choice was set before us. We could choose to turn inward, focusing on our own needs, and wallowing through grief serving ourselves, or we could choose to come together, honoring the Lord as we served one another. 

Grief has a way of blinding us to the opportunities to serve that are all around us. Sometimes we miss them entirely, and sometimes we simply choose to ignore those opportunities when they come. But while I knew that navigating through the loss of a child would be agonizing and painful, I was certain that I did not want to walk this road in a way that distanced me from the man I had pledged my life and devotion to. And so I chose to serve.

I knew that Jesse desperately wished he could take away the pain that I was feeling. But he was helpless. He could do nothing to change the circumstances of our sorrow. He was powerless to undo the grief that we bore. And I knew that too. 

One of the ways I chose to serve him was not to expect him to save me from grief. I did not want to burden him further by looking to him for rescue. Although his grief looked different from mine, I knew that his heart ached with missing our baby as much as mine did. And it would’t be fair for me to expect from him what can only be supplied by the Lord.

Please don’t misunderstand me. Jesse was an enormous comfort and encouragement to me, but he could not mend the brokenness of my heart. The Lord used Him in tremendous ways to guide and strengthen me in the midst of sorrow, but he, himself, was not my hope. I served Jesse by anchoring my hope in our mighty God, not in him. 

Jesse is a doer. He loves to fill his time with adventure and activities. And the same was true in the beginning days and weeks of our losses. To be honest, in those early days I just wanted to sit at home, praying, reading, reflecting, crying, and mourning within the safety of our home, but I knew I could serve Jesse in grief by “doing” with him. 

Our anniversary was just a few weeks after our first miscarriage. We had planned to take a trip, just the two of us, to celebrate. I was still waiting for my body to respond to the miscarriage, and was every day living in the tension of waiting for yet dreading the moment when I would no longer be carrying our baby’s lifeless body inside my own.   Even though a weekend away sounded overwhelming and being apart from our other children for a few days seemed lonely, I knew that this weekend was exactly what Jesse needed. So we went. Serving Jesse at this time was choosing to spend time with him sightseeing, eating out, and going to a baseball game.

And can I just tell you that I am so glad I did? 

“Whoever brings blessing will be enriched,
and one who waters will himself be watered.”
-Proverbs 11:25

This verse rang out so true for me. As I sought to be a blessing to my husband, I was enriched. As I served him by going along with his plans for the weekend, my spirit was watered. We experienced increased communion with one another that would not have taken place had I insisted on fulfilling my own desire of staying home. 

Eight months after our first miscarriage, we experienced loss a second time. Once again I was at the doctor’s office alone, completely unsuspecting of the grievous news I would soon hear. Once again I had to call my husband to tell him that this newest addition to our family would not grow up on earth. Another hand we would never hold on this side of eternity. The weight of the pain was crushing and excruciating.

That same day, Jesse and I were leaving to go on a winter retreat with the high school students from our church.  He told me that he understood if I decided not to attend the retreat any longer, and for a brief moment I considered not going. But Jesse didn’t have that choice. He was leading the retreat. He couldn’t back out to give himself space to openly grieve. And then I recalled this verse:

“Even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.”
-Matthew 20:28

I knew in that moment that I could entrust myself to the One who sent His Son to earth to be a servant. If Christ could leave His throne in heaven to serve me by giving up His life, I could, through His strength, serve Jesse in the midst of this heavy sorrow. 

To say that serving my husband was my natural inclination would be untrue. In fact, all I wanted to do in that moment was serve myself. I felt completely empty and broken. I had nothing to give of myself, and there were moments when I wanted to give nothing of myself. But I knew that I was being called upon to pour into these students for the weekend. This, of course was the perfect soil in which God would accomplish His purposes in me.  His strength in my weakness.

Since Jesse was leading the retreat, He bore a lot of the responsibility for our students and leaders. I began to pray throughout the weekend that God would open my eyes for opportunities for me to serve him and alleviate some of the burden he carried. Sometimes that was just a quick, reassuring smile, letting him know that I was there for him. At other times it was taking care of little tasks that needed to be done. At all times, these acts of service were the overflow of God’s love in me. 

On my own strength, I could not have focused on serving Jesse through our grief. But by God’s grace, He not only opened my eyes to opportunities to serve, but also empowered me to carry them out. 

Dear One, as impossible as it may seem at times, you too can serve your spouse through grief. Satan will try to tempt you to retreat into yourself, to put yourself first, but there is a better way—a God-honoring way. Ask God to give you a heart of compassion for your spouse. Be diligent in looking for ways to care for them in your grief. You are in this together, and together you can increasingly point others to the hope you have in Christ as you serve one another. 

“For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another.”
-Galatians 5:13

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

Are you a writer who would like to join the blog team? Learn more and apply here.