I've personally felt at times, I didn't know what to do. The agonizing pain of losing Major and the miscarriages that we've suffered through have seem debilitating at times. I only wish I would have had this book three years ago when our journey through suffering truly began. If you know someone who has lost a child, this will truly enlighten your heart to the cavern of pain their hearts endure!
So, here goes....
Chapter 8 ~ "How Shall We Minister to Those Who Are Grieving?"
A number of parents who have lost infants have shared with me through the years that they have received wonderful, wise, Godly counsel after their babies died. Others, however, have told me they received very bad or weak counsel. In some cases, what people said or did only added to their pain and confusion. In this chapter, I want to portray to you the type of ministry I hope you will seek out in your loss. Knowing that the Lord very likely will call upon you to minister to others in the future, I also want to help you in a very practical way to become a wonderful, wise, Godly counselor to others. (page 151)
A Loss for the Entire Community
(page 157-169)
I want to share one more story with you because it covers so many of the wonderful things we can do as fellow Christians for those who have experienced the death of a child.
Dan and Pamela, two members of our church, wrote eloquently to me of the life and death of their infant son, Ryan. Each of them wrote about their experience, and I want to share both of their letters with you. Here is what Dan wrote from his perspective as a father: (This sounds as familiar as to the heart of my amazing brother who lost his son at 15 months of age. Dave, my prayer is that you will read this and gleam some sort of comfort. You are not alone my dear friend. And these precious people would love to share with you encouragement and understanding if you should want to talk to someone who REALLY KNOWS YOUR PAIN!!)
"Awake or Asleep We Live Together With Him." These are the words carved in bronze on my son's gravestone. They are the unshaken hope and comfort of Mom and Dad.
Ryan died in my arms six years ago. I held and kissed him until he stopped breathing. The medical staff at Children's Hospital made every heroic effort to save his life. Yet, he was unable to survive the trauma of intestinal surgery. His heart simply gave out.
Ryan graced the earth for seven days. My wife's connection to him was longer and more profound. She carried him thirty-five weeks to delivery.
Without going into great detail, Ryan was born healthy. While small - under three pounds - his lungs were developed and he breathed without assistance. An intestinal infection on his sixth day changed that perspective. (We came so close to losing our Megan Hope to this same intense illness, which will be shared later) Our hearts were dashed over the nest forty-eight hours as his condition seemingly stabilized then worsened repeatedly in what some assess as a cruel rhythm. In the end, Ryan was spared a difficult life and ushered into God's presence.
God's will in suffering is often veiled in mystery. We rejoice that He allowed us to perceive the good that was wrought through Ryan's brief life. I came face-to-face with these unalterable truths:
First, I came face-to-face with the reality that God alone is sovereign. I am not. He controls every aspect of my future - from our family's health to our standard of living. I do not. As a man, it was easy to succumb to the "myth of control" and a sense of exaggerated importance. Any integrity, intellect, determination, creativity, or persuasion on my part, however, could not dictate an outcome here. I had no control. God did.
Second, Christ and His Word are sufficient. As the psalmist promised, "In God's presence is fullness of joy." His Word and its promises are reliable. While our faith was tested, our heavenly Father was found faithful. His grace proved sufficient. In our weakness His love and peace enveloped us. The mind of Christ kept any root of bitterness or self-pity from undermining our communion with God or each other. Any peace or strength we displayed were only a function of God's grace in our life. We were cradled by our great God of comfort.
Third, this trial enabled us to experience the unbridled love of the body of Christ. The perspective, presence, and love Pastor MacArthur and Christian friends touched us deeply. We were loved in many tangible ways. To our great joy this did not go unnoticed by our unsaved friends and family members.
Fourth, the gospel was advanced because of Ryan's life. (As was Major's) God's love and "His peace which surpasses all understanding" were real and on display. This gave us comfort as Ryan's death provided a platform to share God's truth and love. The gospel message was clearly presented at Ryan's memorial service and in many intimate conversations. (Darcy's brother, Jed, did an amazing job at sharing God's Word during Major's memorial service. Probably the hardest thing he's done. Tate, as well, shared God's Word and God's love. Dave, with one hand on Major's casket and the other stretched towards Heaven shared with all how during even the most tragic moment of their lives as parents that "God is good". What strong faith and trust in our God these three men exhibited during such deep pain and sorrow)
And finally, heaven is more real to us. Heaven is not a vague concept or mysterious destination anymore. We long for that day of communion with Christ and reunion with Ryan.
And here is what Pamela wrote of that same experience - what a tender message from the heart of a grieving mother:
When our daughter Megan Hannah was ten months old, we learned our second child was on the way. We were happy our little family was increasing in number. From the very beginning of the pregnancy, I remember telling Danny I felt an overwhelming sense the Lord was going to put our faith to the test. "I think we are going to go through the biggest trial of our lives." How and to what degree was unknown. The Lord was preparing us even in those early weeks.
I was four months along when our trial began to unfold. My first ultrasound showed something inconsistent, and my doctor referred me to an ultrasound specialist at Genetics Institute for a more in-depth ultrasound. I was terrified. (I can truly relate as Daren and I went through so much of what Pamela is about to share.) We called family and friends asking for prayer. The appointment came and the ultrasound confirmed that a little more than half of my placenta had completely stopped functioning. The umbilical cord was not providing enough nourishment, blood, or oxygen for our baby to thrive. Our baby was grossly underdeveloped.
We endured genetics counseling with a specialist, which was horrifying. It was meant to be very helpful and informative. They counseled us on our "options" and blandly explained our baby was at high risk for what seemed like every imaginable long-term illness that would require extensive care: spina bifida, cystic fibrosis, and so forth. (This same news, with the difference that Megan was diagnosed with having Cerable Palsy due to water, blood, and a dilated ventricle in her brain.) Chances were our baby was going to die before birth, at birth, or shortly after birth. The statistics were unbelievably high toward that end.
My doctor placed me on home bed rest and only allowed me to shower in the morning and use the rest room as needed. My only time out of the house was to go to a doctor's appointment. I had to rely on an intricate schedule of friends coming in shifts to take care of all the practical matters related to my child and my home.
Each visit to the specialist was an answer to prayer, however, and another chance to cling to God in prayer. Our little baby boy, as we found out, went from having a hole in his heart to having no hole in his heart, from having water around his brain to having no water around his brain, from having no growth rate at all to having grown, from having decreased flow of blood, oxygen, and nourishment to having increased flows, from having abnormally low fluid levels to having just the right amount. These are just a few of the examples of serious things that showed up each and every time we went to see the specialist. The specialist was always bewildered as to why these things clear up. We knew why they cleared up, and we took opportunities to explain to him why! Our God was bigger than any of the life-threatening physical abnormalities we faced each time we went to see the specialist. We fervently brought every little detail before the Lord, and by the time we would go to our next appointment, He had already done His work. We made sure it was a testimony to God and not anything we had done on our own. It wasn't "luck" - it was God being involved in every little detail of our son's knitting together.
We slowly started realizing the opportunities God was laying before us to share Christ with those we cam into contact with and to be a good testimony of God's work in our lives. Our prayer lives were never stronger as we both prayed for our little son and for what the Lord would have for him and for us.
Home bed rest turned into hospital bed rest. I was hooked up to everything and monitored every fifteen minutes around the clock, being stuffed with up to five thousand calories a day. (with the twins, they "stuffed" me full of eight to nine thousand calories a day. And yes, being monitored and checked every fifteen minutes can be a test in itself) I received regular steroid shots to boost the development of our son's lungs as well. I was lonely for my family - I missed being a wife and mother. (Oh can I ever relate to that. I remember begging the Dr.'s in Dallas to let me go home. Being away from Kory and Daren was so difficult)
After a little over three weeks in the hospital, the physicians determined that Ryan was at a higher risk being in the womb than delivered, so it was time for a C-section. This was it! All the prayers were said and it was time to see what the Lord had for us. My original due date was April 15 and our son, Ryan James, was born March 11, 1996. He was the tiniest little thing, weighing only two pounds and ten ounces, measuring fifteen inches. He did pretty well on his Apgar Tests and he was considered a "well preemie baby". He was in NICU doing well and I was recovering from surgery. We were emotionally, mentally, and spiritually relieved. The Lord had seen us through all the ups and downs, and now we had little Ryan James and he would come home in a moth. We were so incredibly thankful to our Jesus for bringing our little boy into this world. Ryan was tiny, but healthy. He was our miracle baby. So many answered prayers, so much spiritual growth and reliance on the Lord - It was truly amazing! We felt blessed. Our trial finally seemed to be over.
I went home from the hospital while Ryan remained in the intensive care unit. On March 17, the NICU doctor in charge of little Ryan called and asked us to come down to the hospital. She needed to see us right away. (This, I promise you, is a terrifying call....and what you are about to read is a mirror of the footsteps that Daren and I walked, again, with Megan....) What could possibly be wrong" She told us Ryan had NEC (necrotizing entercolitis with perforation) - an intestinal bacterial infection. Our sweet little son was very sick. We were shell-shocked. Our trial was supposed to be over, and here we were being told our son was in need of immediate emergency surgery so severe they couldn't even perform it there! He was stabilized several times and transported to Children's Hospital. They explained they were going to have to remove most of his large intestine and part of his small intestine. The bacterial infection was gangrenous and spreading fast. (Meggie narrowly escaped surgery because it did not totally perforate her intestine)
They performed the surgery on Ryan, but it was too much for his little two-pound, ten-ounce body to take, and he died of cardiac arrest with pulmonary hemorrhage. Ryan died in his daddy's arms on March 18, 1996. He was one week old.
I remember someone saying it was good that he passed on before I could have become attached. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Such thinking was ridiculous. My whole life for the past four months had revolved around Ryan. I knew his every little movement in my womb. His life began way before he ever came into this world. He had not been with me for just a week - he had been with me for months.
Throughout all these months, I felt as if our faith was being tested to the nth degree. At times, I didn't even know where to turn. After Ryan died, I wondered if I was going crazy. What kept me from going over the edge?
God's Word proved itself to us again and again. His grace was, and is, faithful to His promises. These three verses were of special comfort to us:
* My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness. (2 Cor. 12:9)
* The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart. (Ps. 34:18)
* Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. (Heb 12:11)
At the time-and even now-my heart was broken, my sorrow deep. Even so, I knew deep within that Jesus loved us and He knew why He allowed this to happen. I kept reminding myself, "Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me" (Phil 3:12). I believed God was doing His refining work in us. He was broadening our ability to minister to other families. He knew we could endure. I relied upon His Word: "We know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose" (Rom 8:28).
The most amazing revelation was that God's Word was real. The Bible wasn't just words anymore-they came alive! We owned them and we relied on them. We knew God's Word was "living and powerful" (Heb 4:12). We had lived through it. God's grace was sufficient. He had sustained us. He had comforted us. He had provided for us. He had cared for us. He did love us. He was good to us. He knew exactly what we could handle, and He did not give us any more, or any less.
From an earthly perspective, losing a child is probably the worst thing that can happen to a family. Knowing the Lord through this, however, has brought blessing and purpose.
I can say this is a blessing for several reasons.
One, we know for certain, without a doubt, that Ryan is with Jesus and we will be reunited with him for eternity. Our life here is but a dot on a time line that never ends. Our time here without him doesn't even compare to an eternity reunited with him. We still need to be on our knees for our three daughters He has entrusted to us.........
Two, this experience has been a blessing to us because we have a renewed hope and understanding about heaven. Heaven is that much sweeter because Ryan is there. My desire to be in heaven is much more intense. Heaven, in my mind, is right around the corner. I can't wait to be there.
And three, this was a blessing because so many friends ministered to us in so many tangible ways. Their help was a testimony of God’s love, care, and concern for us. The body of Christ I n action is truly amazing-we were blown away by their kindness. Friends took care of us in so many practical ways-providing meals to baby-sitting-and also in spiritual ways by praying for us and standing with us-they did this for an extended period of time. That is NO small gift of love.
When we hear of someone losing their baby we are confronted with their pain, and it isn’t easy because we are confronted with our own pain all over again. Yet, we have had opportunities to help other families through the death of a little one. Often, words are not spoken. Just the fact that they see us still functioning and loving each other is a witness to them that God has brought us through this experience and what He has done for us, He can and will do for them if they will only trust Him.
Ten months after Ryan passed away, I had a miscarriage. A month later, we learned that we were expecting a baby-our precious Lauren Marie. I went through two more miscarriages before the Lord brought us Taryn Reece. Each pregnancy had its own trials, but through them all, I can say, “To Christ be the glory…amen!” Our reliance on the Lord and our relationship with Him has grown so much.
Dan and Pamela have seven children-three on this earth, their precious daughters. They know they have a son named Ryan James in heaven. But they also have three more children in heaven-the precious little ones they conceived who did not survive pregnancy. What a joyful reunion lies ahead for this family!
Let me point out several things to you from these letters written by this dear couple:
PRESENCE: First, Christian friends were very “present” for Dan and Pamela. They were present in their lives in very practical ways-helping with baby-sitting, food and home care. (Dave and Darcy were/are so blessed to have wonderful friends that did all that they could to help them in the weeks and months surrounding this terrible loss. They still stand with them today. We, as extended family that are unable to be in SLC right now, have a true sense that the presence of God is alive and living through these precious people!! Thank You Cameo, Buzz, Jen, and the rest of their special network of comfort and ministry)
GOD’S WORD: Second, the truth revealed in the Word of God was a vital source of strength for both parents. It is a source of strength to all who will turn to it in a time of need! Be bold in sharing words of Scripture with those who are grieving. You don’t need to preach a sermon. But you can say to a parent, “I found this verse of Scripture particularly encouraging and I thought you might find it helpful”-and then share a verse of encouragement about God’s abiding presence.
HOPE OF HEAVEN: Third, the hope of heaven was and is very real to Dan and Pamela. What a wonderful thing when Christians can talk about heaven together! Much of the sting of death is removed as we talk about the love of Jesus Christ and the glories of Heaven. Gently, compassionately, help the grieving parents to refocus their thinking from their loss to what we know to be their child’s gain.
PRAYER: Fourth, be bold in praying for and with your grieving friends. Take their sorrow to the Lord. Ask Him to heal their hearts, renew their strength, and fill them with the love and comfort of the Holy Spirit.
ENCOURAGEMENT: And finally, encourage the steps your grieving friends and loved ones to take in reaching out to others in need. Thank them for sharing what the Lord has taught them through their experience. Give them a listening ear as they share with you their testimony. Allow them to share their story as fully as they desire-in many ways, they may be rehearsing with you what will become a truly evangelistic or edifying message to someone in deep distress in the not-too-distant future. Encourage their efforts at getting involved with others who are in need or who are going through a time of crisis. It is as they reach out to others that much of their healing will occur and they will find renewed purpose in their lives.
Do not be reluctant to get involved with a person who has lost a child, even if you yourself have not had this experience. A listening ear, a loving heart, and warm expressions of acceptance and comfort are always welcome in time of loss. Even if you only say “I’m sorry and I love you”-you will have said a great deal.
God calls us to minister His presence to one another, and there is no greater time for this ministry than when a parent has lost a child. If you have lost a child, allow others to minister to you. If you know someone who has lost a child, reach out to that person with the love of The Lord. Trust God to show you what HE would have you say, do, and pray.
(Nelson Books ~A Division of Thomas Nelson Publishers~Copyright 2003 by John MacArthur)
In His Grip
~and~
Dedicated in Love to Those Precious Little Lives
"Safe In The Arms of God"
(Clicking on the Amazon Ad to the right of this post, you can purchase this book and be blessed by reading the entire book.)
Metamusic: Sleeping Through The Rain - Matthew Sigmon, Julie Anderson
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