My heart pounded as I drove home, too crushed to cry or scream. When I got home, I headed straight to our bedroom, grabbed my Bible off the nightstand, marched to the kitchen, and threw it in the trashcan on top of the morning coffee grounds.
My appointment, a second opinion, wasn’t supposed to end this way. I had prayed and pleaded together with a trusted group of girlfriends. With all my faith, I believed God could, that He would, give me a miracle. Doctors make mistakes. The first diagnosis must be wrong. We heard the baby’s heartbeat last month. Maybe the ultrasound tech had simply missed it this time. But instead of celebrating the miracle we prayed for, our loss was confirmed. All the air was sucked out of the room. How could this be? Where was my miracle?
Immediately, I began to doubt everything I believed. I’d been in church my entire life. Youth groups and church camps had been a childhood staple. As an adult, I’d served on worship teams, volunteered for countless activities, and led Bible studies. God was supposed to love and care for His children. How was allowing agony and heartbreak signs of a loving God? Questions began to swirl:
Where had I gone wrong?
What had I missed?
Were they right? Was my faith too small for God to show up?
How small is a mustard seed again? Surely I had prayed with more faith than that!
How do you come to accept God’s will when it’s the opposite of your own? When it feels like your faith is hanging on by a thin, frayed thread, how do you find the courage to move on? What do you do when it feels like God has abandoned you?
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reconcile how God could ignore my desperate pleas. I was His daughter. Didn’t He love me? Didn’t Psalms say if you delight in the Lord, He’ll give you the desires of your heart? Isn’t there a verse about where two or more are gathered, He is in the midst of them? I had gathered a strong group of prayer warriors. Still our efforts seemed in vain.
It’s easy to love God when things are going well, hands lifted high, remembering His faithfulness. The true test comes when life hits you full force causing your knees to buckle as your world shatters. It’s then that you discover you only have two options: You can either cling to your feelings of despair or His promises of hope. It’s hard to set your emotions aside for the sake of truth. You feel utterly alone, abandoned, yet His word reminds us, “I will never leave you or forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6b).
My body healed quickly from the miscarriage, but my soul took much longer. Tears that initially wouldn’t come now had no end. I found safety in the cocoon of my bed, spending hours, even days there. Calls went unanswered. My Bible, rescued by my husband and stained from my coffee and tantrum, remained unopened across the room. Thankfully, a sweet friend came to my rescue. For months, she tenderly cared for me, listening when I needed to talk, inviting me to coffee, crying with me as I mourned. When words failed me, she prayed. During my darkest days, when the sadness and despair were all-consuming, her love carried me.
When you’re in the eye of the storm, it’s hard to feel God’s nearness. Chaos swirls all around while God seems distant at best. Yet, when we look back, through a less-distorted lens, we’re able to see His love and faithfulness, His constant presence providing for our needs, holding us close, and comforting us.
I couldn’t see it then, but years later God’s fingerprints throughout that season were obvious. He saw every tear I cried. He lovingly cared for me through my friend’s presence and actions. His grace allowed me to be angry enough to throw His Word and promises away. Still, He loved me. Like a loving father, God doesn’t always give us what we want, and sometimes what He allows feels confusing and cruel.
Over time, my pride and brokenness revealed themselves, and I recognized my need to surrender. I wrongly believed I’d checked enough boxes along the way to earn my miracle. God doesn’t work that way. His “no” was not the result of me missing the mark or not having enough faith. His love is unconditional, rooted in grace. We can’t earn it, and we can’t lose it either.
God’s goodness isn’t dependent on me. It’s not a result of anything I’ve done or didn’t do. He is good because He’s God. Period.
Are you in a similar season? Have you prayed with every fiber of your being only to be met with an answer you find hard to accept? Do you feel unheard, unseen, and unloved by your Heavenly Father?
In the middle of the soul-crushing disappointment, overwhelming heartbreak, and sense of abandonment, God is still right there. Perhaps He’s carrying you or maybe He’s in the background working out the details or He could be preparing the way for you. One thing I know for certain: He has never left me. He never will. He has never left you, and He won’t start now.Leave a Comment