At the end of a busy day in my 34th week of pregnancy, I realized I hadn’t felt my baby move. A hospital ultrasound confirmed the terrible truth: my baby girl had died.
I wasn’t in the habit of praying. I did believe Jesus was my savior and had accepted Christ into my life at the age of 8. But by the time I left for college, and even after I got married and had my son, church was just a weekly ritual. Even though I believed, I just didn’t feel prayer or a relationship with God was necessary. I was fine. Life was “good.”
But on January 17, 2005, my “good” life turned completely upside down.
The next day, I delivered my daughter. I was able to hold her and love on her for several hours. But then I had to say my final goodbye. The grief that followed was unimaginable.
This is how my prayer life restarted: with anger. I had MANY conversations with God, questioning His ways. Questioning His love. I needed His healing so badly, but I shut Him out.
But God was completely looking out for me during my grief. The people He’d already placed in my life stepped up to help me as I healed, surrounding me with love and prayer.
It took time, but the presence of God’s love in their hearts gradually soaked into my own. I began to realize I needed to embrace, not blame, God. That I couldn’t get through this without Him.
I let him in. I prayed. I experienced the freedom—the relief—that comes from trusting Him. I saw how He’s not merely my Creator, but my friend. How, even in the deepest tragedy, God can bring comfort like no other, and joy in your heart when you thought you’d lost it forever.
Being a Christian doesn’t mean we’ll have trouble-free, “good” lives. It means that when the storms come, we have a loving Father who walks with us through it.
It took the loss of my daughter to understand the beautiful gift of a relationship with Jesus. Since then, we’ve walked through many storms together.
It brings me so much joy to know I have an eternity waiting for me in heaven. I know without a doubt that I will see my daughter again one day.
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