September 2022 marks eleven years since my husband and I had our miscarriage. And while it is much easier to talk about now than it was at first, I still find myself grieving from time-to-time, especially when this time of year comes around. Recently, I had the opportunity to interview Eric Schumacher, someone I respect greatly about he and his wife’s miscarriages, and the way God held them together, and loved them into a deeper relationship with Him through them. You can watch that interview here.
Eric Schumacher is the author of Ours: Biblical Comfort for Men Grieving Miscarriage, as well as the novella My Last Name, and co-author of Worthy and Jesus & Gender with Elyse Fitzpatrick. Eric received his MDiv from The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He lives in Iowa with his wife and five children. Find him online at emschumacher.com. Today, he’s sharing a miscarriage prayer with us. I hope you’re blessed by it as I was.
A Miscarriage Prayer
When you joined us in marriage, we dreamed of having children. We never imagined the nightmare of miscarriage. We don’t understand why you gave us this little life, to live a little while in the womb and then die unseen and unheld. We don’t know why this happened. But we do know that this child was ours. We know that you care about this loss. And we know that it hurts.
We are devastated by this loss, overwhelmed with grief and pain. We don’t know what to say to others. We hardly know what to say to you. And sometimes, we don’t know what to say to each other.
You gave us each other to be allies in life. We need each other. We want to connect with each other in this grief. But we can’t do it. We’re too tired, too weak. We don’t know how to do it. And, to be honest, we often don’t want to.
We give in to the temptation to turn inward, to focus on ourselves. Unlike you, we come to each other to be served and not to serve. We do not have your mind: we do not seek the interest of others instead of our own.
Forgive us, Lord.
Jesus, we believe that you lived and died to forgive our sin. When you rose from the dead, you conquered sin, death, and the power of the devil. You became like us in every way so that you could both save us and help us.
Through personal experience, you know our grief and the temptation to give up. You’ve been there. But unlike us, you didn’t fail. Unlike us, you were obedient even to the point of death on a cross. You alone can do what we’re called to but cannot do in our flesh.
You know how to help us because you know what it’s like to be here. Even better, you want to help us. You’ve promised us grace and mercy in our time of need—and we need it now.
We come to your throne now in faith, asking you to do what you promised. Be with us, empower us, and work through us. Make us willing and able to love one another as you have loved us. Give us wisdom to know how to connect, strength to do it, and perseverance when we fail.
Thank you, Jesus, for always keeping your promises.