sorrow

Grieving as a Couple: Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness

KIM BARNES | CONTRIBUTOR Twenty-two years ago, I was twenty-three weeks pregnant with our third child. During a routine check-up, my obstetrician discovered that our baby’s heart wasn’t beating. We were heartbroken. That evening, I was admitted to the hospital to induce labor, and by the next morning, I delivered our stillborn baby girl—Hannah. She was tiny, but fully formed. There were no visible problems—nothing to explain what had gone wrong. God had numbered her days. My husband and I held her in our arms, said our goodbyes, and felt the anguish of never getting to know her this side of eternity. The following summer, we were overjoyed to learn I was pregnant again. It felt like a miracle after the four years of infertility we experienced before our first child was born. But this pregnancy, our fourth, was marked by both joy and apprehension. We were deeply grateful but also carried the scars of our previous loss. One day, while twenty-six weeks along, I felt anxious. The baby’s movements seemed less frequent, but I assumed it was just my grief from losing Hannah making me overly cautious. I decided to visit the doctor, hoping for reassurance, but it wasn’t the news I hoped for. The next day, I delivered another stillborn baby girl. We named her Charity. The weight of grief was unbearable—we couldn’t believe it was happening again. In the United States, 1 out of every 4 pregnancies ends in miscarriage, and 1 in every 160 pregnancies ends in stillbirth. October is Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month, and it is also the month we lost our baby, Hannah. It’s a time for remembrance, reflection on God’s faithfulness, and considering what we learned through these tragic losses...

Grieving as a Couple: Infant and Pregnancy Loss AwarenessChristina Fox2024-09-30T14:00:44+00:00

Joy and Sorrow in Motherhood

BETHANY BELUE | CONTRIBUTOR It was a Tuesday morning, two weeks before Mother’s Day. I parked my car outside my doctor’s office and prayed a quick prayer: “God, please help this baby to be healthy.” I walked in expectant, excited, and a little nervous. It was only a few minutes later as I lay on the table with the screen in front of me that I saw my baby for the first time. This very small baby with a heart that wasn’t beating. The silence in the room was deafening. My heart immediately started racing and I looked at the ultrasound tech as the expression on her face told me what I already knew. “I’m so sorry,” she said. My body froze, fear washed over me, and I knew then I was facing yet another story of motherhood that I didn’t want to face. I went home later that day to my two small children who had no idea what Mommy had faced that day. The innocent joy on their faces and excitement to see me brought a lift to my heavy heart. I was immediately brought back into the reality of my world and the incredible gift these long-awaited healthy children were to me. For the days and weeks following that Tuesday morning, joy and sorrow were held hand in hand as I held my children a little closer while at the same time, aching for the child in my womb. Joy and Sorrow in Scripture All throughout the Bible, there are stories of the sufferings, longings, hopes, and joys of God’s people through different circumstances of motherhood. The places where they also held joy and sorrow hand in hand. There are the stories of Sarah who became a mother past child-bearing age and was overcome with laughter by the story that was written for her (Gen. 21:1-7); of Naomi, who lost both her sons and her husband, and then in the midst of her grief made the hard decision to love her daughter-in-law from a different people group. She walked in faith as she loved Ruth as her own and watched the Lord’s tangible faithfulness in building her family in a way far different than she could ever have dreamed (Ruth 1, 4)....

Joy and Sorrow in MotherhoodChristina Fox2024-05-10T19:52:15+00:00

He Knows Our Every Trouble

CLAIRE STREBECK | GUEST Christ identifies with all our weaknesses. Christ understands our every sorrow. Do you weep? Do you mourn? If there were one characteristic that marked Jesus' earthly ministry, it would be compassion. Over and over, he was moved with deep pity for those weeping, especially those who were disadvantaged: the widow from Nain; Mary at the death of Lazarus; the sinner-woman who wailed as she washed Christ's feet with her expensive perfume and her tears. Yet, it was not only their circumstances that provoked Jesus' emotion. Certainly, any of their conditions could have been sufficient to prompt anyone to sympathy. Still, with Jesus, each emotional response included more than mere circumstantial pity. Every time Christ was moved in his emotions, it was in response to the battle he waged with death. Jesus’ Emotional Response to Our Fallen World When Christ saw Mary and the other Jews weeping over Lazarus' death, he felt more than sorrow. John 11:33 tells us that He was "deeply moved." I was surprised to discover that the text signifies more than Jesus' sadness and sympathy–John also communicates Jesus' rage. The original Greek word used is embrimaomai, which literally translates to "being very angry or moved with indignation." Was Christ angry at Mary or those with her? Was he angry over their grief? Absolutely not. In fact, we see that he was stirred in response to their mourning, with his own shedding of tears only two verses later. It was death itself that prompted our Lord to anger. ...

He Knows Our Every TroubleChristina Fox2024-03-05T18:10:48+00:00

The Lament of Jesus

LISA WALLOVER|GUEST Christians are Resurrection People. We truly are. Every Easter morn, pastors around the world declare, “He is risen!” And all God’s people say, “He is risen, indeed!” Truly, every Sunday is that celebration! We serve a risen Savior. The tomb is empty. Life is full. Death, where is your sting? Except. Except that life still stings, sometimes. Maybe more than sometimes. Our hearts can be heavy. We are weary from the lingering weight of sin—around us, and within. To lament is to express to God that sadness that sits in our souls. I wonder if we are sometimes hesitant to lament because it somehow seems “unfaithful” to admit that sorrow can feel bigger than we are. Perhaps it even feels bigger than God. Is it possible that it is in this sorrow where we might meet God most closely? That He is there, waiting, because He deeply understands? That in our grief over sin and its effect, we may actually reflect God’s design and God’s heart? That in the midst of our sorrow we are “conformed to the image of His Son”? Isaiah wrote a description of the coming Messiah that sounds more like defeat than deliverance: He was to be “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Is. 53:3). And yet, this is the way of the gospel. The path toward the joy and victory of the empty tomb goes through the grief of Gethsemane and pain of Golgotha. It travels through our own grief and pain as well. Our God understands sadness. The sorrow that Jesus felt, He felt perfectly. Completely. How grateful we can be that the Gospel writers share His lament. Jesus wept at the tomb of His friend, Lazarus...

The Lament of JesusChristina Fox2023-08-15T13:41:29+00:00

How to Cope with Anticipatory Grief as a Caregiver

ELIZABETH TURNAGE|CONTRIBUTOR As Marissa Bondurant mentioned in our last article in this series, caregiving, while a burden, is also a calling. Today I want to explore one of the common challenges of this calling: anticipatory grief. Anticipatory Grief Three years ago, Lara’s father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. As his primary caregiver, Lara is struggling. She finds herself crying frequently, losing her temper daily, and feeling anxious constantly. Like many caregivers of people with progressive or terminal disease, Lara is experiencing anticipatory grief. According to bereavement counselor Marty Tousley, “Grief occurs in anticipation of and following a loss. Extended illness, disability, severe accidental injury, a terminal diagnosis, or the aging and decline of an elderly family member can produce anticipatory grief.”[i] Symptoms of anticipatory grief may include anger, anxiety, depression, denial, irritability, and difficulty concentrating. The caregiver may also experience a sense of hope as she imagines the coming relief from her caregiving burden. Following that sense of hope, she may feel guilt. While many psychologists call this grief “anticipatory,” others note that “anticipatory” may not be the most accurate term, because the caregiver is experiencing grief over current loss—the loss of the ability to enjoy life with her loved one as she did in the past, the losses her loved one now experiences due to limitations, and the loss of the caregiver’s “normal” life. The first thing caregivers need to know is that both anticipatory grief about the future and present grief about the loss of past joys is to be expected. In addition, the caregiver can take comfort from and learn from Jesus as she navigates anticipatory grief...

How to Cope with Anticipatory Grief as a CaregiverChristina Fox2023-08-15T13:46:46+00:00

Your Unwanted Journey: Facing Your Husband’s Pornography Struggle

“God, I come to you very weak and broken. Grieved over the sin of my husband that I just discovered. Shocked—feeling betrayed—angry—distrustful—sad at sin’s corrupting power—very aware of my own desperate need for grace as I must confront him.” I wrote these words in a journal entry when I discovered evidence on my computer’s history that my husband had been visiting pornographic sites. Although I knew of his struggle prior to our marriage, I naively assumed that he was done battling pornography and that our marital bliss would provide the antidote he needed against temptation. My dreams of a happy, secure marriage in which I felt compellingly beautiful to my husband were instantly shattered that afternoon—barely more than a year into our marriage. It was made worse by the fact that just the day before I had asked him if he had been struggling lately with pornography, and he said, 'No.'” I remember getting the call from this woman. She was devastated, confused, and angry. Pornography usage is an unfaithful behavior that breaks the sacred promise: I am devoted and faithful to you alone. We might even call it treason of the marriage covenant, though some may think this too dramatic or stern. But aren’t husbands called to faithful oneness to their wife, to lay down their lives for her? She, of course, is called to the same, but why is it that church leaders can minimize the traumatic impact of porn, as well as the grave sin of sexual infidelity—which porn viewing is?...

Your Unwanted Journey: Facing Your Husband’s Pornography StruggleChristina Fox2023-03-24T17:50:49+00:00

John 16: From Sorrow To Joy

PEY CHU|GUEST I am a huge fan of modern medicine. My first three children were born in North Carolina with the marvelously numbing help of an epidural. Sure, I felt uncomfortable but I did not feel the excruciating agony of childbirth. This was not the case for baby number four. He was born in East Asia where the epidural was not often administered and so, it did not take. I did not know that birthing a baby was actually supposed to be so painful. At one point, I was so convinced that I was dying in childbirth that I tearfully looked into my husband’s eyes and apologized for dying and leaving him a widower to care for three, possibly four, children. From Sorrow to Joy In his farewell address to his disciples, Jesus compares his impending earthly departure with a woman’s sorrow in labor. This metaphor would not have been a new one to those listening to Jesus. It was used in Old Testament biblical literature to allude to “the birth pains of the Messiah refer[ing] to a period of terrible trouble that must precede the consummation.”Jesus uses this imagery to show his disciples that they were at that point. The misery of Christ’s death would be countered with the bliss of Christ’s resurrection. In the Upper Room Discourse, Jesus has been preparing his disciples for what was about to come. As he looked ahead to his own death, Jesus tells them in John 16 that soon they would not see him. Their sorrow at his departure would be like the pains of childbirth. But their sorrow would not be the end; their sorrow would turn to joy. The intense agony of labor (and their sorrow) would be followed by inexpressible joy just as a woman “no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world” (John 16:21). Jesus follows with, “So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you” (John 16:23).

John 16: From Sorrow To JoyKathy Wargo2023-03-24T18:00:32+00:00

Letting Go of My Mother and Friend

PATSY KUIPERS|GUEST God blessed me with the gift of a godly mother, a blessing that would impact my life in innumerable ways over the six decades we shared. Raised as an only child after my baby sister passed away, my bond with Mom was strong and multi-faceted. She could be a firm disciplinarian, but she was also my best friend and closest confidant. When my 39-year-old husband, Ray, passed away suddenly, Mom and Dad moved to Georgia to help me and my then 7- and 10-year-old daughters navigate life without our beloved husband and father. In the ensuing 24 years, my daughters, son-in-law, and three grandchildren also benefitted from her selfless, unconditional love and unwavering faith. I couldn’t imagine life without her. As a child, I would sometimes hope we’d die together in an accident of some sort. Little did I know then that a day would come when I’d sit by her hospital bed and plead with the Lord to take her Home. But it did. Role Reversal Unlike my husband’s sudden, unexpected loss, I lost Mom bit by bit over the last few years of her life. Tiny but determined, she continued to take care of her home and loved ones even as arthritis and osteoporosis took a greater and greater toll on her physically. Then came some red-flag moments signaling a decline in her mental abilities— her request for help balancing her checkbook even though she’d worked in banking for years, the inability to successfully bake a cake she’d made countless times over 50 years. Those moments alarmed and saddened me. Gradually, our roles shifted as I assumed more caregiving activities. Mom would often tell others, “I don’t know what I’d do without Patsy. She’s the mother now.” Or she’d tell me, “Thank you for your help. I can’t ever repay you.” I’d remind her, every time, of the years she’d invested in my children and me, lavishing so much love and care on us, and that if we were keeping accounts, I’d be the one forever in her debt. Bound by love, we knew there was no record-keeping between us. Yet, there was a growing sense of sorrow as we experienced our changing roles and limits on what we could do together...

Letting Go of My Mother and FriendChristina Fox2023-03-24T18:15:27+00:00

Delicious Despair 201

ANN MAREE GOUDZWAARD|CONTRIBUTOR My entire backyard burst with the colors of spring. Everything bloomed. It was a perfect, 70-degree day and the landscape showed off. I looked out my window and saw the wicker chairs scattered under the pergola and balloons dotted on the boulders strategically situated throughout the yard. When we invested in landscaping last year, I had visions of hosting joyful events. The picturesque backdrop was perfect for a tea party or bridal shower. In fact, we planned to host a “baby sprinkle” for my daughter that very day. (A “sprinkle” is a baby shower for couples who already have children.) Cori and Brett had all they needed for two kids, but then they found out they were expecting twins. So, we planned a sprinkle to help them provide for multiple babies. We hosted a memorial for the twins (Deacon and Hallie) that day instead. In 2020, the pandemic reminded us to preface our plans with “if the Lord wills.” Everyone’s agenda hit a “hard stop,” and we realized how precarious goals are. For our family, 2021 ushered in the opportunity to experience that truth in real time. My husband and I planned for chaotic bliss in adding a twelfth and thirteenth grandchild to our already bustling family. Together with our other children, we coordinated our calendars to support Cori and Brett at her due date. God had another plan. The Lord willed something different. Something more difficult. An accommodation we had no idea we would need to make. And so began my education in grief. What’s essential in the grief process is to try and grasp God’s redemptive plans. This takes time. It may even last indefinitely. In Delicious Despair 101, I wrote that Martin Luther fully expected the pain of suffering to result in a transformation.[1] For instance, in opposition to the “first step” of grief (denial)[2], candor looks suffering in the face and says, “Yes, that really happened.” Candor acknowledges devastation, but it also asks, “Now what do I do?” Wallowing in self-pity over the events God ordains is antithetical to biblical grieving. In 1 Thess. 4:13, Paul instructs mourners not to grieve as those without hope. So, we must keep moving through our grief and actively seek wisdom to reinterpret what happened as perfect and good...

Delicious Despair 201Christina Fox2023-03-24T18:18:06+00:00

Light Palms, Heavy Burden

AIMEE JOSEPH|GUEST Palm Sunday. The expectant people lined the streets, praising Jesus and quoting from Psalm 118 as he approached in peace. The people knew he was the Messiah, the Sent One, the One coming to save them. Thus, they shouted “Hosanna” which means “Save us, now!” (Matt. 21:6–11). They waved light palms as he approached history’s heaviest burden. Their praise presupposed that Jesus would establish God’s people in peace politically and do so immediately. They had visions of the once-flourishing reign of David. Their hopes soared with high expectations that Jesus would usher in a new golden era. However, within a week’s time, it would become clear to these same crowds that Jesus had plans to usher in a very different kingdom. As a result of these missed expectations, their praises faded quickly into shouts of “Crucify him!” in a matter of days. We are not unlike them; our praise quickly turns cold and bitter when our expectations are not met in our way and on our timetable. As we approach Holy Week, we are invited to search for the semblances of our own hearts in the fickle crowds. Jesus rode into Jerusalem through a tunnel of praises that came from the mouths of those who would soon chant “Barabbas!” (Matt. 27:15–23). They cheered his approach with a light and airy joy, but he alone knew he was marching on to his death. His patient restraint and resolve as he approached an unthinkable burden only further shows the purity of his goodness and love. His Burden A King approaching in peace, In humility He rode on, Onlookers cheering him, Expecting a new dawn. The Scriptures foretold it, Yet none of them could see, The dawn would begin with The God-Man hung on a tree. The Messiah was coming, To bring His kingdom to bear; But of the coronation of tears, None but Jesus was aware. “Hosanna! Save us!” they cried, As hopes and palms were raised. “Finally the kingdom’s come, May Jesus’ name be praised!” He heeded not their fanatical cries, For he well knew the heart of men, From “Crown Him” to “Crucify,” The voices would be raised again...

Light Palms, Heavy BurdenChristina Fox2022-05-04T23:14:32+00:00