8 results for tag: Sarah
The Heart of Grief
Is grief an appropriate emotion for a Christian to display? The short answer is: yes. In response to grief I often hear some version of the phrase, “We miss our loved one, but we know where they are and we will see them again.” While this truth can certainly anchor our hope, I think sometimes this phrase can unknowingly revoke a person’s right to grieve and feel the true weight of loss. Grief is an entirely natural, normal, and dare I say good response to loss. We see it modeled many times in the Bible, even by God himself. But just like any emotion, it has the ability to run rampant and take over our minds and hearts. Grief is an emotion we ...
When Life Leaves You Feeling Weary
God’s Word speaks thoroughly and abundantly into every season of the heart. As we study His Word, we learn that within its pages are found the ultimate source of comfort and peace for the sufferer. In this series, we will seek to carefully and compassionately apply these ancient, scriptural truths to feelings and experiences that are common in grief.
After losing my baby at 18.5 weeks to Trisomy 18, I struggled with sleep. I would frequently find myself awake until 4:15am (coincidentally the time Baby P was born). I would lie awake, either having flashbacks or chasing a long trail of google searches and articles in hopes of finding ...
Four Years Later: Joy Comes In The Morning
It can often seem as though you will always be drowning beneath the acute pain of loss. However, while our grief never truly ends, it doesn't always look and feel the same way. In this series, our writers speak from where they are now in their grief, _________ years later. Throughout this series, you will find testimonies of how grief changes us, and how God uses our heartache to shape us into a greater reflection of His image.
Four years out from losing Baby P, I can finally look back without bitterness. I have seen growth sprout from the deepest, darkest cave. I can thank God for how the experience of loss has brought me closer to the ...
Sarah’s Lament
To lament is to turn to God in honest, desperate prayer, expressing the reality of our emotions—as intense and tumultuous as they may be. Ultimately, a lament is an expression of faith in the God who hears our cries and responds with mercy and grace. In this series, we seek to write our own laments in the style of the Psalmists, beginning by giving voice to the real and raw emotions that accompany our grief, and then lifting our eyes heavenward in trust and adoration of the One who is greater than all of our sorrow.
To the God who was, and is, and will always beWho gives growth and strength.To the maker of galaxies and builder of ...
Where Were You?
After my loss at 18 weeks, I found myself unable to listen to Christian music or hymns without bursting into tears, and my voice couldn’t find the strength to utter any of the words. It was just so hard to sing “it is well with my soul” when my soul hadn’t healed. As the entire church sang “Good Good Father” my harsh reality seemed in stark contrast to the joyous noise surrounding me. You bet I believed those words, but my wound was still so raw.
I knew God was good, even though I didn’t feel any bit good at the time. I hoped if I said, “God is good” in my head enough times that my feelings would eventually catch up. ...
God is the Great Redeemer
I have never felt more violated than when I got the news that death had entered my womb. Such an unwelcome visitor, a thief, that I did not give permission to enter my body. Death stings no matter the age or circumstance, but it is extra personal and strange when death comes to a child still attached to your living body. Baby P died at 18 weeks en utero due to trisomy 18. His death meant that we would soon be separated; my body would give birth to him, and he would be laid to rest. Death is the great separator. But I rejoice knowing that Jesus conquered death—the thief won’t have the last word. I believe the pain of death comes from the ...
Masterpiece
People often ask why bad things happen. Too often, well-meaning people try to comfort those who mourn with cliché answers about why they are enduring misfortune.
“God is preparing you for something big.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“God gives His hardest battles to the strongest soldiers.”
These comments were always off-putting to me after my dad died in a car accident, again after my firstborn died at 19 weeks in utero, and again after my early miscarriage a few months later. Was I really supposed to think that God orchestrated these deaths just to make me a better person? That always seemed a bit self-centered to me.
We may ...
