Today marks one month until my due date, but it’s also the first anniversary of my miscarriage. Although I spent a lot of time remembering my miscarriage during the first months of this pregnancy, when the morning sickness was so much milder than usual, my former due date passed in March unnoticed. And so I wasn’t sure if I would remember when today came. Nor was I sure what to expect if I did remember.
I didn’t forget this time. While I was sad to think of the baby we will never hold in our arms, I didn’t spend a lot of time moping. I suppose that’s a result of the passing of time combined with the distraction of another baby kicking me in the ribs. Or maybe it was something else. I don’t know; this was my first experience with this kind of loss.
I actually remembered the date on my way to church this morning, while driving in pouring rain that would make anyone a bit melancholy. I found myself choking slightly on the familiar words of the hymns and liturgy, but then as we chanted the introit of the day I found myself comforted by these words from Psalm 55:
Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved.
and:
Give ear to my prayer, O God, and hide not yourself from my plea for mercy!
While the words of men can be helpful in a time of need, it never ceases to amaze me how the true comfort is always found in the word of God. Thanks be to Him!



(yes, little britches is learning to wear big boy britches this week!)



