A little over a week ago I finally called in an SOS to God. I was hurt. I was angry. The only person there seemed to blame was God … and the only person who could ultimately help me was also God.
So I called out…
God,
I’m mad at You. I’m mad that You took my baby girl, especially because You aren’t giving me another baby.
I’m mad at You for breaking my heart.
I’m mad that You’ve left me alone and don’t answer my prayers. You say to have faith and be diligent, yet my faith and diligence have only ever brought pain. So why? Why should I continue to put faith in You?
I’m mad because I can’t feel Your love. Maybe it’s because I’ve distanced myself so far from You, but I don’t feel anything from You. I only feel anger and bitterness.
You have a plan, but God, I’m very angry with Your plan. Sure, I agreed to it, but I also know You promised I wouldn’t do it alone. Yet, here I am. Alone. More alone than I’ve ever been.
When I was drawing myself nearer I thought I heard Your voice and felt the Spirit. Clearly not. It was all in my head.
I have no more strength. My desire is gone. My heart or head or whatever it is inside me knows what’s right, but I can do it. I know if I follow that path my life will continue to have countless hardships and I can’t handle another one anytime soon.
I can’t handle another loss. I can’t handle any more bad diagnoses.
I am mad at You. I tried not to be, but I have no one else who can explain all this. No one else is in control. There’s no one to blame. Right or wrong, it’s Your fault. How can I pray when You don’t listen? How can I trust when clearly what I get promised doesn’t happen?
“It’s in God’s hands.” Or “Trust in His timing,” they say. Well, that’s not enough anymore. They say I can’t demand something from You and can’t expect answers, but I need them because I’m ready to let go.
I am lost. I am lonely. I am desperate. I am sinking further and further into a dark hole and I can neither see nor feel any light.
I am mad at You and this is my SOS.
Analee
I know what this looks and sounds like. It’s scary, ugly, vulnerable, raw, probably shocking, and maybe even disappointing. The truth is, it’s in the loss of a pregnancy or child and then again in the inability to bring a child into your home that are the loneliest journeys a woman will ever have to walk.
Eventually, every woman who goes through this kind of loss tells herself at least one if not all of these things:
- This is all God’s fault.
As humans, we have this incessant need to place blame. Therefore, the blame either falls on ourselves or we put it on God.
- There is no one who understands.
This obviously isn’t true, yet our loneliness causes us to feel this way. One in four women actually experience this.
- I can’t tell anyone what I’m going through.
Many women have actually gone through and experienced it but the world doesn’t want us to talk about it, only making us feel even more lonely. The few people we do tell tend to have one of two extremes. First, are the “I need you to be better so I’ll tell you why I’m grateful your baby didn’t make it and really this world is so awful you should be too.” Second, are the “I am so sad I’m crying and I’m going to make this about me now even though I haven’t ever experienced this.”
- Why does “Susan” get to keep her baby/get pregnant when she’s already got five?! (or) Why does “Amy” get to have a baby and she’s not even married?
These are just two examples of the kind of questions we shout in our minds. To us, there is a huge imbalance and if we don’t keep ourselves in check, it can make us very angry.
- Why me? I actually want to be a mom and instead women who neglect their children or go get abortions are the ones getting pregnant.
It’s the truth and it has become personal because we know we would love and welcome all the little fingers and toes in the world. Instead, we lost ours involuntarily. The women who waste that gift, take motherhood for granted or destroy the beautiful precious life forming inside them seem to be making a very personal attack. They’re not trying to and obviously, their choice has nothing to do with what we have or do experience, but it feels personal to us.
Child loss and infertility are the loneliest roads a woman can walk. Eventually, we call in an SOS to the Man we’re mad at. We call for the only true lifeline: Jesus Christ. It’s ugly, dark, scary, and vulnerable to us. Eventually, we do come out on top, but our grief will never truly go away because it will be our grief that brought us to where we are and where we will go. Instead, we learn to move forward with it.
I called in an SOS at my darkest hour and light is finally seeping through and into my life again. I am still broken and I’ll never be the same. I can’t be put back together and I don’t want to be. It is in brokenness that God refines me. It is in the darkness I learn to focus on light.
When you have finally broken down and have nothing left, send God your SOS. Make it real and accept that what you’re feeling is frightening. It’s going to be okay.
