Church and Grief

I haven't written on here a lot lately, in fact, this is only my second post for September. I have about 10 half-written posts in draft form, but for various reasons (that I won't go into) I haven't finished them. But when I heard a particular song yesterday, it struck a chord with me and I wanted to write about it.

I've written before about the relationship between faith and grief, but I haven't written much about what it's like to actually go to church after baby loss. I think that's mostly because people from my church will read this, and I don't want them to think that they've done something wrong or that I am picking on them. I also don't want extra looks or glances at each service. But I want to be honest:

While Ariella's death hasn't really shaken my faith, it has made going to church incredibly hard.

You see, there are plenty of things that make being at church hard. Babies born in the months before and after Ariella, including one who was born the week before. I see those babies growing up while knowing that I won't see my girl grow up. Women who were pregnant at the same time as me and with whom I had plenty of baby-related conversations. Those women have their babies in their arms, I do not. Advertisements for the two mothers groups that I had planned on attending, but now cannot do so. Seeing people get prayed for and healed (and rejoicing for them), while knowing that my baby girl wasn't healed.

I knew those things would be hard, but I underestimated how hard one other aspect of church would be: worship. In the 32 weeks since Ariella died, I've only managed a couple of weeks without tearing up (or bawling!) during worship. You see, so many songs that we sing talk about how Jesus has defeated the grave. I am so, so grateful that Jesus has done so, as it gives me the assurance of seeing Ariella again. But singing about the grave being defeated when I have literally lowered my daughter into her grave? Ouch. That hurts. Yes, I believe that Jesus has defeated death - one day it will be no more. But in the present day, death is all too real to me.

Then yesterday I heard this song:

I'm Still Yours - Kutless

If You washed away my vanity, if you took away my words, if all my world was swept away, would you be enough for me? Would my broken heart still sing?

When my life is not what I expected, the plans I made have failed, when there's nothing left to steal me away, will You be enough for me, will my broken heart still sing?

If I lost it all, would my hands stay lifted to the God who gives and takes away? If you take it all away, this life you've given, still my heart will sing.

Even if you take it all away, You'll never let me go. Take it all away, but I still know that I am Yours, I'm still Yours.

I like how this song doesn't say that my heart will sing in spite of what happened; it's about making the choice to praise God and sing to Him and about Him even when we have nothing left. When bad things happen, you do have a choice. You could walk away from God or you can choose to praise Him even if everything is taken away. I've seen both happen and it makes me so sad when I see people walk away from God and/or the church in the tough times. It's understandable but it does make me sad. On the other hand, when I see people who have been through the unimaginable and yet their faith is stronger than ever, that's inspiring. That's who I want to be like. No matter what happens, I want to be able to stand and worship God throughout the week and each Sunday in church.

A friend told me at the start of my grief journey that sometimes we just have to go through the motions until it becomes real again. For me, that means going to church and doing my best to worship even though my heart breaks at the sight of a small baby or the sound of their cry. Some weeks, it means acknowledging my weakness and staying at home. It's been 32 weeks, and sometimes I still feel like I'm just going through the motions at church. But I'm convinced that's ok. If I didn't do that, I'd never go, and that's no good either. Going to church is hard, but worthwhile. Even if it's only to stay in the habit until I'm no longer just going through the motions.

When hard times come, the choice is yours. If everything you have or long for is taken away - what will you do?

Where else would I go?

Having a child die is always going to be awful, devastating and difficult. But I wonder if there's an added dimension of difficulty when faith is involved.

You see, I'm a Christian. I fully believe that Jesus is God, that He died so that all the wrong things we do won't have to separate us from God, and that He rose again to prove that death no longer has power. I also believe that God can and does perform miracles. Once, the doctors were convinced I had appendicitis, and it was just a matter of waiting a couple of hours for a blood test result to come back before they performed surgery on me. During those hours, my mum prayed for me. When we went back to get the results, I had no pain at all. The doctor almost didn't recognise me because I was smiling and laughing, as opposed to doubled over and crying in pain. Miracle? I believe so (and, for the record, so did the doctor).

I grew up with flat feet and needed orthotics so that my ankles, knees and back wouldn't hurt when I ran. But around eight years ago at church, a friend's mum prayed for me, and arches developed in my feet. Before that prayer, I had never had arches. After that prayer, I've not need orthotics or had a problem with pain while running. Miracle? I believe so.

I could go on to list other miracles that I have either seen or experienced, but I won't. The point of me sharing the two miracles above is that I wanted to show that God can and does perform miracles today.

So why didn't God step in and restart Ariella's heart? Why, at the time when I felt most desperate for a miracle, did God not perform one?


I don't know. 


It could be tempting to say that since God didn't answer my most desperate prayer, and the desperate prayers of the family and friends who knew, that I'm going to give up on Him. At first glance, it looks like He failed me, so I could very well give up on Him and few people would judge me for that. But this scenario just reminds me of the time I was in a nasty car accident. About 5 minutes before the crash, a group of us had prayed and asked for God's protection as we traveled. For a few weeks after the crash, I struggled with the fact that God hadn't answered that prayer - how could we have been in a horrible crash if God was protecting us? But then I remembered something. When I arrived at the hospital, the nurses told me that they had seen photos of the crash and were expecting someone with much greater injuries than my slightly cut little toe and bruised hip.

Even though we had crashed, God kept me safe within that crash.

By all accounts, I should have had worse injuries. But I didn't. My lack of injuries was laughable (and indeed, a paramedic did laugh when I showed him that the only visible injury I had was a tiny cut on my little toe). God had protected me in an awful situation.

The thing is that people will fail you and they will fail me. But God won't. I said earlier that I don't know why God didn't restart her heart. I completely believe that He could have, and yet He didn't. And do you know what?

I am ok with not knowing why.

Some people may believe it is foolish of me to continue trusting in a God who didn't answer the most desperate prayer I've ever prayed. But all I can think of is this:

If I turned away from God, where else would I go?

The Bible records a story of Jesus asking His disciples if they were going to walk away, just as much of the crowd had after Jesus had said some things that were difficult for them to hear. But one of the disciples, Simon Peter, responds by saying "Lord, to whom shall we go?" That is how I feel - life has been difficult this year, but if I was to turn away and leave God, where would I go? To whom would I go?

Sometimes life doesn't go to plan. Sometimes awful things happen, and it's so easy to question God. You may have been in a car accident, you may have been hurt by family, you may have even had a child die. And I am so, so sorry that you've been through pain. If I could sit with you over a coffee (or hot chocolate) and just be with you in your pain, I would. But I can't, because even if time allowed, many of you don't even live near me. That's why I pray for you. Because when I can't be there for you, God is. And when I don't have the capacity to comfort you, God does.

And that's why I am still believing and trusting God, even after Ariella's death. After all, where else would I go?

Life Update

It occurred to me recently that a lot of people don't actually know what I'm doing this year, so I thought I'd take the chance to fill you in on what life looks like at the moment for us.

Me:
I'm working two days a week, homeschooling two lovely girls. They are 13 (year 8) and 10 (year 5), and are such a pleasure to work with. I never imagined ever doing something like this but when I was asked if I would do it, it seemed like I had no reason to say no! It's been the perfect job to get me up in the mornings, and starting to re-enter "normal" life (whatever that it)!

I'm also volunteering at church on Mondays, helping our wonderful Children's Pastor with all sorts of things related to children's church. It's been great! It's nice to have something to do on Mondays, but it's also flexible, so if I'm having a bad day, I don't have to go. 

I have my final exam for my Hebrew class next week, and then the semester is over. I don't think I'll be studying next semester, as it's actually been quite a struggle to focus and remember things.

Marcus:
He's working two days a week with a friend from church, mowing lawns and doing general gardening. The other days he is doing maintenance and grounds-keeping at College. God has been so faithful in providing work.

Ariella:
Four months today since I went into labour. One of the things that I love hearing from others is that they miss her too. It's been four months, so I can understand that people are mentioning her less. But hearing people say "I miss her too" is really special to me; I love knowing that others loved her too and wish she was still here with us. 

I saw this photo on The STILL Project's Facebook page, and it definitely sums up how I feel. It was created by CarlyMarie, who does a lot of art and writing in the baby loss community.

No matter what I've been through in the past four months, despite the pain, agony, grief and despair, I would still choose Ariella. She's my daughter, and I love her. I would still choose her.

Practical ways to help

People have told me that they don't know what to do to help when a baby dies. This picture, from Life:Rearranged sums it up pretty well:

I really liked this picture when I saw it, because it's SO accurate. I think 2 and 3 can go together a lot of the time: know when the baby was born, and be aware that it could be a hard day each time that date pops up. For example, Ariella was born on the 30th, and I've found the 30th of each subsequent month hard. I also find the 28th hard, because that is when we heard that she had died. 

Number four is also important. The support is most obvious soon after the baby's birth/death, and slowly tapers off. I am very thankful that people are still continuing to check in on us, three months down the track. One thing in particular that makes me smile is getting notes in the mail. I absolutely LOVE opening the letterbox to find a card, letter or note in there. 

Number six is perhaps the one that people find most difficult. It's easy to say "do something" - but what exactly to do? Here are a few ideas:

• Make a meal. Be aware of any allergies, intolerances or strong dislikes. It's easiest if it can be frozen, as it means there is no rush for the parents to eat it. If it can't be frozen, arrange a date to drop the meal off. That way the parents know they will have a meal that night, and won't have something already prepared. If there is a person or church who can collect meals, that's great, as it means the parents aren't having lots of people on their doorstep wanting to chat. On that note, if you do drop a meal off in person, be considerate in terms of how long you stay. We never had anyone overstay or linger, which was brilliant. Also, if you have children, please be aware that the parents may or may not be comfortable seeing them. It's worth checking with them, even if that feels awkward.
• Offer to do the grocery shopping, or arrange some food deliveries. For a few weeks after Ariella was born, going to the shops was terrifying. Not only is it likely that there will be babies around, you might run into someone you know. The idea of unexpectedly seeing people was too confronting for me, and it actually did happen once. I'm not sure if that couple even knew we'd had a baby, as I hadn't seen them since early pregnancy (before I had a bump). To make it worse...they were carrying a baby in a capsule. A group of friends got together to organise 5 weeks worth of fruit and veg deliveries for us - it was amazing. Not having to think about going to the shops for fresh food quite literally took a weight of my mind.
• Consider giving financially. We were overwhelmed by people's generosity when it came to finances. It's slightly different if there was a miscarriage, but once a baby is over 20 weeks, the law requires them to have a proper burial/cremation, which can be quite expensive. You could offer to help pay for that, but don't be offended if the parents say no, they may feel like it is something they need to pay for themselves. The Dad may be taking time off from work, and depending on the job, it might be unpaid leave. 
• Send flowers - I know of mums who didn't like receiving flowers, because flowers eventually die (and they've already dealt with more than enough death). Personally, I loved receiving flowers. The brightened our lounge-room, and smelt wonderful. 
• I've mentioned this briefly above, but send a letter, card, or short note. Text messages or emails are great, but to post something takes a little bit more time and thought, and I love knowing that someone has been thinking about us and Ariella. Plus you get to keep cards and read through them whenever you want, without worrying about things like if your phone's memory is full. 
• Offer to do jobs or chores. If the loss was due to stillbirth, the mum will be recovering from birth, which has all sorts of physical implications (whether there was any damage done during birth or not). Please be aware that the mum's body will be acting as though her child is still alive - bleeding, milk, contractions, joints and muscles still loose...they're all the same. Housework may be too physically demanding, and it is almost certainly to emotionally demanding. Offer to help out (but don't touch the baby's things unless asked).

That's probably a long enough list for now, but I want to say one last thing. Please do not be offended if your offers for help are not taken up. Marcus and I had offers of help from dear friends, and it wasn't until weeks later that I realised I never took them up on it. The parents are going to be a fog, and chances are they may forget about your offer! This doesn't mean they don't appreciate it, because they do. It just means that they may not have needed that offer at that point in time; don't hesitate to offer again a few weeks later :)

If you haven't read my other posts about what to do after a friend loses a baby, you can find them here.

Signs of God's love

A friend asked me the following question on Facebook:

Has God given you any special signs or spoken to you in a special way to assure you of His love that you would feel able to share?

I thought it was a good question, and so I've been trying to think of my answer. I have definitely felt God's love during the past 11 weeks. But I had to stop and think about why or how I've felt it. Here are my conclusions:

*God's love in giving me such a wonderful husband. I was amazed when we were discussing plans for Ariella's birth, funeral, grave site and plaque...Hubby and I had the same ideas for all of it. Even down to what song we wanted to play at her service, and what flowers we wanted there! I can't think of a single time when our desires regarding our daughter were different. I know God brought us together a while ago (in fact, today marks 500 days of marriage!), but I still say that Hubby has been a sign of God's love for me over the past 11 weeks.

*One night I was concerned about money. The next day we were given gifts from two people - enough to cover a week of rent. I hadn't even prayed about it that day, all I'd thought was "it would be amazing if someone were to give us money right now, I feel like it's what I need as a pick-me-up." God took that thought, and graciously, lovingly responded. I could almost hear God saying to me "Larissa, there is no need to worry. I've got you."

*I really struggled one weekend, for reasons I won't to go into here. A pastor at church noticed, then called me during the week to see how I was and to offer to chat. That chat seriously turned my week around. Experiencing the pastor's love and care for me (which has been constant, not just that once) is another thing that assures me of God's love. 

*There's also been a few times when I've heard God speak to me, but I don't want to share the details. What I will say is this: prayer isn't just a us talking to God. He talks back. Not necessarily audibly, but He speaks to your heart. And when He does, those words are precious. 

I don't know if those were the sorts of things imagined when my friend asked the question, but they are what spring to mind when I think about the reasons why I feel assured that God loves me, even after this tragedy. And I also know, without a doubt, that God loves you too, dear reader. I don't know your circumstances, but He does. And He loves you.