The Pain of Miscarriage… and Respect Dare 37

I judged her.

A friend of mine, still hurting from an unexpected but welcomed pregnancy lost in miscarriage, received judgment from me instead of compassion.

She never knew, however, but as I’ve been praying in the recent weeks, asking God to reveal my sin to me, and then coincidentally struggling with what to write about Dare #37 in The Respect Dare, He reminded me of my lack of compassion for her.

Woke me up this morning with it.

Even though she never knew about my lack of empathy, I still sinned in my heart. I remember listening to her and thinking, “She needs to just get over it – it’s been years, and she’s had another baby.” At the time, I didn’t even realize what I was doing. It didn’t even occur to me that I was sinning, judging her. And I did communicate empathy to her, but not as deeply as I should have.

My black heart was in the way.

What makes this so strange is that I’ve miscarried.

And it did affect me, even though I also had another baby.

I know the feeling of empty arms.

I understand the horror in the bathroom.

The blood.

So. Much. Blood.

And the pain – the cramping that leaves you spent, combined with the emotional pain of the death in progress. The thoughts of the “could have been.” The crib in the other bedroom that will still be empty in 5 months.

The pain of the cervical block without anesthesia for a D&C when your body can’t finish the death that’s been started.

The post-partum depression that comes… again… but this time without a baby…

I get these things.

And so this afternoon, as I think through how we judge others, even though we do the same things, I am pondering what God is saying in this:

1 John 1:9

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.

And the big “A-Ha!” for today?

That my heart needs to change in multiple ways – so I am praying for a pure heart in all my relationships.