I can remember lying in the hospital bed sobbing uncontrollably in my mother's arms after a second-trimester miscarriage. The doctor told me the gender but could not tell me why it happened. Who knew forty-five years after that heart-wrenching loss my husband and I would experience the loss of a child again without an explanation.
On July 25, 2020, we were enjoying a visit out of town with relatives. My husband's phone rang, he answered and I could hear our middle daughter screaming. My knees buckled, something was really wrong, my heart is pounding, I plop on the end of the bed as my husband kept saying, "Slow down! I can't understand you!"
Our youngest of three had overdosed alone in the basement.
Her sister found her unresponsive. The paramedics worked with her over an hour but could not revive her. My husband and I dropped to our knees in each other's arms wailing. I began to throw up. I have never felt pain like this excruciating, crushing pain! I begged God, "Please, please God change your mind! Change your mind, please God!"
This is when you know, intellectually, that God is with you but emotionally, at that very moment God feels a million light-years away. Hurt, devastating hurt, was all my heart could hold while I could hear the whisper of the Holy Spirit "God is close to the brokenhearted." While I knew everything was going to be okay I also knew that this deep crushing pain would be with me. OUR CHILD HAD DIED