We happily anticipated his arrival for many months. Car seats were purchased and installed, baby showers were thrown, a portacrib was set up at Grandma’s house…
I was sewing the final stitches on his baby quilt when I received the news that Ezra, my first grandchild, had died in the womb, just hours before his due date.
He was delivered stillborn by C-section that day, a beautiful and perfect baby boy. There was no problem with the cord, and no explanation offered. The doctor was mystified. We were heartbroken, devastated.
It is unsettling—this not having answers to our questions. Early grief is compounded by the not knowing. Medically speaking, why and how did this happen? Where do we put our grief?
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I know God sees us in our sorrow. He is still El Roi, the God Who sees (Genesis 16:13). He understands our confusion and sadness, and I believe with all my heart He is compassionate and thoroughly good. I don’t know why he allowed this tragedy, but I know His perspective is perfect and His heart is love.
How priceless is your unfailing love, O God! [We] take refuge in the shadow of your wings. —Psalm 36:7
This hit me the other day: Ezra will never sin nor face the consequences of sin. Can you imagine, from Ezra’s perspective, the wonder of his reality? Sin cannot harm me there, wrote Fanny Crosby in 1868. Ezra is safe forever with his Creator.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be. —Psalm 139:13-16
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In my book about losing my son Joe to brain cancer, I wrote about learning to hold everything loosely. It is a lifelong effort, this open-handed surrendering. Hard and painful, but necessary. It is the only way I know to have peace in the not-knowing.
Life is hard… but in times of sorrow clouded by mystery, we can trust God’s heart.
I preach that truth to myself. I know it, though I don’t always feel it…
Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. —Hebrews 11:1
