This is the second of three posts which I feel called to write about how I moved from miscarriage to ministry. It's my testimony, it's my story and I just hope it might be what someone somewhere needs to hear.
don't give up, your miracle is on the way.
These words came to me in prayer and meditation, they helped me keep hoping. In the midst of the anxiety and desperation I found a gentle reassurance.
What still makes me smile is the fact that these same words, from human mouths, were so unacceptable. When said by a well meaning friend or relative they were trite, thoughtless, unfounded on any true knowledge of the situation. They made me cringe inside, and sometimes outside.
This is what happens when you are bereaved and/or depressed; you step away from people because you can't bear their well meaning but inappropriate comments. And then these lovely people step back because they realise they don't know what to say. It is here when excellent listening and care is needed. It is here when just being with someone in quiet companionship and prayer can be the best thing you can do.
I was supported day in and day out by the most amazing friend who had been there before me. A friend with no faith of her own but lots of understanding and compassion. A friend who kept me going and helped me reconnect with prayer.
And prayer gave me the hope I needed. In prayer I heard the truth that my miracle was in front of me. It became a truth I knew, a truth which had no timescale, but one I trusted.
Along the way an amazing group of women going through similar times became friends like no other online. Together we shared the grief and desperation and we shared the hope of miracles. God was in these friendships, He provided the people we each needed and the knowledge of His gifts in our futures. We didn't give up, none of us, we kept going knowing that our miracle was coming.