“Please don’t let it happen again. Please, Lord. Please have mercy on me. Please have mercy on my body. Please, Lord, please just don’t let this happen. I beg you, Lord. Please God.”

I cried out to God, everything within me involved in the prayer.

I prayed fervently, wholeheartedly, hoping against all hope my prayer was being heard, that it would be answered, and there would be a stop to what I could tell was coming.

I shifted uncomfortably, willing the pain in my lower back to cease. I tricked my mind into believing it was normal pain, that it was different than what I had felt before.

I told myself not to worry about it, not to think the worst.

“God I believe things are going to be different this time. I believe you are hearing my prayers and you are answering them. I know you are answering them.”

My prayers increased in intensity with the same fervor that the pain increased in intensity. I tried to push away the fear and dread that were trying to consume me. My heart was breaking.

All explanations I could come up with to ease my anxiety were fading away as the experience grew more and more like it had been before.

“Lord I believe I am going to find that what I’m thinking is not true. That it is just fear trying to trick me into thinking the worst. God, it has to be different this time. It has to. I can’t take this. Father God, please I beg you one more time, please have mercy on me. Please God. Please. Don’t. Let. This. Happen. Please.”

With a sliver of hope, a small mustard seed of faith, I went to see if the life we had prayed and hoped for, the life we had planned for, the life we had been rejoicing over, was still with me.

As the red evidence confirmed that the end of that life was in process, the hope I was clinging to, the belief that my cries were heard, the mustard seed of faith I was clutching slipped from my heart the same way the life we had been looking forward to slipped from my body.

This is the second time in a row that I have miscarried a child.

As I write this my heart is still raw and wrought with open wounds from the loss.

As we seek answers from doctors, my heart is seeking answers from the one place I have always ran in times of heartache and pain, the place I always turned when I needed to be comforted, when I needed peace and reassurance.

I find myself grieving in more ways than one this time. Not just for the child we lost, but also for the blind faith that I once had. The faith that has slowly over the past few years been chipped away at.

I find my heart hanging in a balance. I desperately want to believe like I used to.

I desperately want to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that words like these words “I know the plans I have for you, plans for good and not for evil, plans for a future and a hope,” and these words “I have come to give you life and life more abundantly”, and these words “And this is the confidence which we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He listens to and hears us,” I want to believe these words are true, that they are real, that they can be counted on.

I need to believe that the wellspring of life giving words that are planted deep inside of me, words of power, words of healing, words of comfort, words from a God I deeply believe in, I need to believe that these words are living and powerful, and that they will rise up from within me and provide me with the comfort, peace, and restoration of trust that I desperately need.

I need to get back to where I believe completely, blindly, without a shadow of doubt in the One who spoke these words.

I wholeheartedly believe that I will come out of this season with undeniable victory and with a renewed, battle tested faith that is stronger than ever. 

I know from past experiences that it is in these deep valleys of life where God is experienced in a way unlike the plateaus and mountains of life. Even though I don’t understand why it is like that, I know that the time spent in this valley will in some way work out for good.

But for now, in the meantime, I am grieving, in more ways than one.

Life is going on around me as usual, but my heart is hurting and needs healing. My body needs healing.

And most of all my faith needs healing.

“I am near to those who are broken-hearted.” – God  (I believe this is true and I am clinging to this truth now.)

If you have suffered a miscarriage as well my thoughts go out to you. My heart goes out to you. My prayers go out to you.

Let’s Talk:  Heart to Heart, Woman to Woman.  If you have experience with miscarriage and feel comfortable sharing, please share in the comments your story.  I have been inspired by other women sharing their stories of heartbreak that has turned to victory. Or if you are like me and still struggling in this area, I want to hear from you too.  Please share your story and we can encourage each other.

Photo Credit: Justin Marty, Fractured Fairytale

Linked at : Cornerstone Confessions, Titus 2sdays, Pour Your Heart Out