Purple—a colour of serenity, calm, and peace. Purple—the colour of the special ‘set aside’ room they brought my husband and me into after the 12-week scan didn’t show what it was supposed to. The little life had ended.
This was the third time. The third miscarriage. At this point, we had two young kids—Hamish and Betsie—‘successful’ pregnancies that made it all the way, praise God. It is a strange thing to go through, a miscarriage. In my case, I was only weeks into knowing I was pregnant, but I was already imagining life with this little child. I wondered whether it was a boy or girl. There are so many expectations that come with a new life. And as Christians, we believe that life begins long before birth.
. . . you knitted me together in my mother’s womb . . . My frame was not hidden from you when I was being made in secret. . . .(Ps. 139:13–15)
Life is precious, so miscarriage is a devastating experience—painful both physically and emotionally. You grieve for a life you didn’t know, and after a few days, you flush that little life down the toilet. (I can only speak from my experience, details will be different for others.)
A little over a year later, I began writing the song ‘Glory’. I first thought of the chorus of the song while sitting in the Sunday morning service at Gracemount Community Church. The sermon was on John 9, where Jesus heals the man born blind. Jesus explains that the man’s blindness is not a result of his sin (nor that of his parents), but that the works of God would be displayed in him. The man’s suffering leads to a display of God’s glory.
This made me think of suffering in my own life, and also in the lives of family and friends. At that point as a family, we had experienced tragic loss. We were grieving. Feelings were raw. But there was hope in the sorrow because God is sovereign.
Still, through all my miscarriages, I struggled. I had this recurring thought of the pointlessness of it all. I questioned God: What is the point in this? Why make me pregnant in the first place? I couldn’t see the reason—and I still can’t now, at least not fully—but I know that God does, and I trust in Him. The following verses were so helpful to me, reminding me that everything is a gift from God.
- Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD (Ps. 127:3)
- The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21)
I know many people who read this will be suffering in different ways and to varying degrees, but God’s Word speaks to it all, not just to my specific pain. When we are in Christ, we can have confidence that God is with us through all of our suffering. He’s growing us to be more like His Son, who we know to be the ultimate example of suffering. We see Christ’s pain and shame when He was lifted up on the cross. As He suffered, bled, and died, He did so in perfect obedience to the will of His Father, bringing glory to Him.
At the end of the song, I sing about the hope to come in eternity. Where else could be better? In the book of Revelation, we are promised that all our sadness, suffering, and sorrow will be finished. We will be with the Lord, in perfect relationship with Him, just as God initially created us to be. This is the certain hope of everyone who has turned from their sin and put their trust in Jesus: they will enjoy God’s glorious presence for all eternity.
While I was writing this song, I became pregnant again. Months later, we welcomed our third child, Tommy, into the family. I know we are abundantly blessed. I hope that the truths in this song can be of comfort to others who are grieving. While I still don’t fully understand the point of my miscarriages, what I do know is this:
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”(Is. 55:8–9)