When You Struggle with Worry After Loss

Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit’—yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring… Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.’
—James 4:13–15

There is something in this passage that can feel tender after loss. The people James describes sound so certain. They have it all mapped out. They know what they are going to do and when they are going to do it. Their plans feel secure. They speak about tomorrow as though it is guaranteed, and they even assume that all will go well for them.

After losing a baby, life rarely feels that way anymore. I know, in theory, that God’s Word tells us we are not truly in control of our lives (Proverbs 16:9). But in the day to day, I find myself longing for the same kind of certainty I see reflected in the people James is addressing. I, too, want to believe that my plans will unfold just as I hope they will.

But grief changes how we see the world. It makes us painfully aware of how fragile our bodies are, how quickly life can shift, and how suddenly what once felt safe can be taken from us. Many Hope Moms find that worry begins to take up more space in their hearts after loss. We worry about our health and what tests might reveal. We worry about future pregnancies and whether our bodies can be trusted again. We worry about our living children, about our husbands, and about the people we love most. Often, this worry is not rooted in a lack of faith, but in love that has already known loss.

And this is where Scripture speaks with such gentleness. The Bible does not rebuke us for feeling small or afraid. It tells the truth about our vulnerability without shaming it. James reminds us that our lives are “a mist,” brief and fragile. After loss, that reality can feel painfully close. But the gospel does not leave us exposed in our frailty. It draws near to us there, meeting our weakness with compassion and steady care.

Because of this, God does not ask Hope Moms to pretend they are strong or unaffected. He does not dismiss fear or rush us through it. Psalm 34:18 tells us that “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” He draws close to us in our tenderness, and He invites us to bring our worries into His presence rather than hiding them. 

When anxiety about health rises, when appointments feel heavy, and when the future feels frighteningly uncertain, Scripture gently reminds us that our lives are not held by chance. They are held by a faithful and loving Father. Psalm 22:10 reminds us that “On you was I cast from my birth, and from my mother’s womb you have been my God.” The same care He has shown us from the beginning continues even when the path ahead feels scary or unclear. 

This is also true for our children, for our husbands, and for all the people we love most. Jesus speaks directly to the fears that so often fill our hearts when He says, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air. They neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” (Matthew 6:25–26). These words are not meant to shame us for worrying, but to remind us of our worth and of the gentle care of a Father who sees us.

The hope of the gospel does not promise us an easy or pain free life, but it does promise us a secure one. Because of Christ, we know that brokenness is not the end of the story. A day is coming when every body will be made whole, when what is fragile will be restored, and when loss will no longer touch those who belong to Him (Revelation 21:4). Even now, “we do not lose heart,” Paul writes, because what is unseen and eternal is being prepared for us (2 Corinthians 4:16–18).

In the midst of all this uncertainty, James gives us a posture for our lives when he says, “If the Lord wills, we will live.” This is not resignation. It is trust and a quiet, courageous acknowledgment that our days are known, our stories are not accidental, and nothing, no diagnosis, no outcome, and no tragedy, can undo God’s purposes for our lives. God gently affirms this truth throughout His Word. Psalm 139:16 tells us that all our days were written in His book before one of them came to be. And Jesus asks us, with compassion, “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?” (Luke 12:25 NIV). Not to minimize our fear, but to free us from carrying what was never meant to rest on our shoulders.

If you find yourself worrying more since your loss, you are not weak. You’re human. As Hope Moms, we must remember that fear often grows in the same soil as love. But even here, in the uncertainty grief leaves behind, God is near. He is faithful, and He is holding what you can’t. I pray this allows you to breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that you don’t have to carry tomorrow alone, because your Father is already there. You are invited to cast your worries on Him and to rest in His care, now and forever (1 Peter 5:7). 

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.