Thursday, November 4, 2010

living on a prayer

"Though my flesh and my heart fail, God is the rock of my heart, my portion forever."  Psalm 73:26

I have always loved the Psalms.  David's honesty in his conversations with God is awe-inspiring.  He is not afraid to show anger and frustration, yet he constantly acknowledges God's sovereignty and goodness.

Our journey with infertility and pregnancy loss tests my faith daily.  Never before have I felt so shaken, so alone.  While I once firmly believed that the trials we experienced would serve some purpose, that there was some plan for our lives, I now find myself saying aloud that sometimes things just happen and nothing good is meant to come from them.  I still believe in God, but I find it difficult to sing of His goodness and love after the loss of our two precious pregnancies.  I believe that some of my disillusionment stems from the reverence with which I was taught to address God.  While growing up, I was never told that it's okay to yell and scream and be angry with Him.  Instead, I was taught to pray by saying how wonderful He was and how thankful I was for everything in my life.

So, I am now giving myself permission to tell God exactly how I tell Him how much this sucks, and how it is not fair that A and I cannot have a baby because we are good people who would love a child so deeply.  I plan to tell Him just how angry I am that I never got the chance to meet the two little ones that A and I conceived, and that I cannot believe He would allow so many couples to go through this terrible battle.  Any good relationship requires honesty, so I think it's worth a try.


  1. I have to tell you I sit firmly in the 2nd camp you mention.

    I was also raised in a church, and had a deep awe and fear of God. Over the years I have thought more about the "father" representations in the bible.

    I have a child and my husband (her father) would do anything in the world for her, he loves her when she rages and throws tantrums, he loves her when she doesn't listen to him, he loves her when she expresses her feelings, even if they are negative etc.

    I think God is a "big boy" and he can take it. He understands, even appreciates our honesty. " I don't get it and I'm mad, and hurt, and confused" seems authentic and honest, and don't we all want that from our kids, and each other?

    I think there is a difference between anger and hurt and then bitterness and resentment (which only hurt ourselves in the end).

    I say get the anger out and you may be surprised at the peace that comes from that. I was. x

  2. I have to say I would have categorised myself as a Christian before the miscarriage, albiet not a very devout one, and then after that I pretty much lost interest. My folks, who are very religious, told me that I should pray before the treatment as it could really help, then afterwards, when I was completely gutted and really depressed, started going on about praying then too. I know they meant well but I ended up finding their praying chat teeth-grindingly irritating!

  3. Thanks for posting this. I am constantly struggling through my relationship with religion (or my lack thereof, if we're being honest). It's good to know that even those with strong faith feel alone in this process...although I wish you didn't have to feel that way in order to comfort me. : /

  4. I try to remember that Sarah laughed at God when she was told she would have a baby. I laugh at God with every period I get. ;)