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A Psalm of Lament: After another pregnancy loss

Guest Shawn Collins

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Guest Shawn Collins

You’re not pregnant anymore.

That’s it?

The miscarriage is complete.

That’s it?


My wife is relieved by the doctor’s words.  

Her body has faced the darkness of pregnancy loss again.  

We don’t have to do anything.


I am shattered by the doctor’s words.

This little one was a dream.  A risk.  A willingness to hope.

Those things also died.

We don't have anything to do.


I sit in the rubble of my broken dreams, and I am angry.

I am angry at the new life around me.

I am angry at the words of faith which celebrate victory.

“You healed the sick, and you raised the dead.”  

Not for me.  Not this time.

I am angry at the silence from heaven.


Dear God, this silence is not the holy, lonesome echo it is supposed to be.

It is a maddening cacophony of voices in my head.

I cannot hear the voice of truth.

The giant is too big; the darkness is too great.


Even the darkness will not be dark to You.

What is the voice of truth?

The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell.

This love created life, yet the life held the risk of death.

This love dreamed of a created order, yet the dream held the risk of chaos.

This love hoped for relationship with man, yet the hope held the risk of disappointment.


And this is love.  Not that we loved God, but that He first loved us.

And He has left us an example, that we should follow in His steps.

That’s it.

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