Lord, you are the creator and sustainer of life. How could you?
Lord, how could you let me sleep soundly while she was struggling?
Lord, how could you let me eat a nourishing breakfast while she was malnourished?
Lord, how could you let me slowly ready for the day while she couldn’t get the oxygen to live?
Had I known, I would have rushed to save her! Had I known, I would have done anything!
But I was kept in the dark, and then into deeper darkness I fell.
I had no warning, no real fear, no anticipated grief, no chance to save her. Was this your mercy?
Was this what you call mercy??
I’m her mother! – but you are her God.
“O God Who Sees All Hidden Places,
You know the wounded depths my heart
quietly holds. You see the hurt and the confusion
that settle like the drifts of dust in the shadowed corners
of my mind. Restore my soul.
You read my restless thoughts.
You note the tears that no one else can see.
You know why I have found no peace since losing
the child I carried. You see me disquieted by this vague
and guilty sense that I must have done something wrong,
that the responsibility for this devastation rests on me —
because of something that I did or did not do,
or because of somehow my body was too weak
to keep my child. Restore my soul.
In my head I know, O God, that I am not to blame,
that I should not have to feel this way, that this was
not my failing or my choice. I loved this baby
from the first stirrings of life. But all the same,
in my heart a secret shame has lodged.
It whispers that this loss must be my fault.
And I have not found a way to silence
that dismaying voice or shake those
painful thoughts. Restore my soul.
Now seek me in my helpless state, O Christ.
Approach me as you always do, in a tenderness
without reproach or accusation. Give to me the grace
I cannot give myself. Stoop down to lift me in your arms.
Sing softly in my ear, a song of how all things
will be made new. Do not let go. Restore my soul.
Speak peace to me, O Spirit. Teach me now to name
this sorrow rightly — not as a tragedy I have caused,
but as a storm I have endured. Restore my soul.
Let healing waters of your love now flow and fill
this hidden well of pain, O Father. Let me finally rest
and grieve in you, that grief might do its holy work,
and that I might in time be whole again. Restore my soul.
Be constant in your mercies, Mighty God.
Awake my sleeping hope. Renew my wearied heart.
Restore my soul.
Amen.”
A Liturgy for One Who Struggles with Guilt or Shame After a Miscarriage,
Every Moment Holy Volume II: Death, Grief, and Hope by Douglas McKelvey
Be-Still-and-Know 