Lost Children

Today marks Sarah and my third wedding anniversary. The past three years have been an amazing journey. I am so blessed and honored to do life with Sarah. She has been a picture of the grace of God in my life and a testimony of what the bride of Christ should look like. Over the last three years, I have learned that I need to be more like her. I love her so much. In our short time together, we have faced many challenges. God is faithful, and has seen us through each one. This week in particular I am reminded of one of those challenges. It happened shortly before our first anniversary.

Since the days that Sarah and I dated, we always discussed having a family. We couldn’t wait for the day we would become parents. We decided to wait about a year before starting our family. Toward the end of January 2009, we received spectacular news. Sarah was pregnant. I will never forget that day. I came home from work and found Sarah in the bathroom staring at one of seven pregnancy tests she had taken, all positive. I dropped to my knees without saying a word and laid my hands on her belly. I blessed the Lord and thanked Him for this blessing. I remember saying to God that this child was His and that he could have his way with this child. Sarah and I told our parents and they couldn’t have been more excited. We tried our best to keep it a secret from the rest of our church. We wanted to wait a little longer before telling them, but with news like that, who could wait?

We went to the doctor and found out that she was around 6 weeks pregnant. We were so excited. We started thinking about names, nursery themes, and 1st birthdays. The doctor scheduled us for our first ultrasound. We were so excited and couldn’t wait to see our baby and hear the heartbeat. We arrived at our appointment and there was a feeling anxious, nervous and excited. We sat in the room and filled out all the paperwork and waited. Those moments waiting felt like an eternity. Finally we were called into the examination room.

The technician explained what she would be doing and began her scan. She asked how far along Sarah was and if this was our first child. As the scan progressed, the technician said that she was having difficulty locating the baby. She reconfirmed how far along Sarah was, at this point Sarah was nearly 8 weeks. The technician explained that maybe Sarah was earlier than what we thought and that she was going to do a different type of scan. Still no signs of life, still no heartbeat. I could see the look of worry and panic set in on Sarah’s face. The technician couldn’t find anything and recommended that we meet with our doctor. As we left the office, instead of smiles there were tears. No pictures to share, no story to tell. By that night, I was taking my wife to the emergency room. She was miscarrying. The emergency room doctor broke the news to us that we had indeed lost the baby. I took my wife home to comfort her. But how do I comfort her when I needed the same thing.

We called our family and broke the news to them. They were heartbroken. Sarah spent a few days in bed. I tried to be strong for her and the family, but inside I mourned. I couldn’t understand why God was allowing this to happen to us. My heart ached for a child I had not yet even seen. Days went by; the Sunday after the miscarriage was particularly difficult. Some people had just finished hearing that Sarah was pregnant. They came to congratulate only to find us sad. I tried my best to protect Sarah but there were those that managed to slip through. My heart continued to hurt for Sarah, the child we lost and in some way for myself.

A few weeks went by and our lives were slowly returning back to normal. One morning as Sarah and I were getting ready to work I heard the Lord speak to me. As part of our routine, we often watch T.V. while getting ready for work. I had put on the country music station and listened to music while getting ready. As song came on that shook me to the core. It was one of those moments that God uses to turn the secular into the sacred. A song started to play by Rascal Flatts called Here Comes Goodbye. In typical country fashion, this song was about the loss of loved ones and how those who remained handled their loss. The video was even more heartbreaking with a twist at the end. (Go watch it, it’s worth it) By the end of this video I was sobbing uncontrollably. Sarah hadn’t seen me cry like that, and all I couldn’t think of was how much I hurt. In that moment, sitting on the edge of my bed, with my head in my hands, I heard the Lord speak. He said, “You mourn a child that had not been born, how much more I mourn the children not born to me.” In that moment, my heart was changed. I was no longer feeling sorry for myself. God was allowing me to experience a small portion of what He experiences.

The Scripture teaches us that the Lord is “not willing that any should perish (2 Peter 3:9).” Everyday, children die without ever having been born. The Lord mourns each one of those lost children. The Lord used this experience to teach and remind me of the importance of sharing the Gospel. What are you going to do? Does your heart mourn for the lost children?

A few weeks later, Sarah found out she was pregnant again. The day I found out, I did as I had done before. I laid my hands on her belly and dedicated the child to the Lord. 9 months later Jude was born. Our families celebrated; we were overjoyed. I will never forget the one that had not been born to us or the lesson that child taught me.