When You Need to Hide

Refuge - Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/lenscrack/8535354098/

I have been absent from sharing with you. These past 3 months have been marked by great joy and now recently with great sadness and pain. And now I feel sucker punched, empty and trying to find my footing again.

In January, we learned we were expecting.  After so long, it was actually true and though the words “cautiously optimistic” were ever present with us, we began, after so many weeks, to be hopeful. Tentative conversations of what might be grew in confident assurance between us. Our precious little secret began to leak out, from one dear friend to another. Family was told with great joy. I was content beyond words.

And then March 1. Ultrasound. No heartbeat. Take this pill, it’s all over.

So here we are. Even as the physically pain is starting to subside, my “insides” don’t feel right. Deep numbness and sadness grips me, makes it hard to lift my head. I want to sleep. But even sleep is not peaceful. I want to hide. But hiding puts me too much alone with me. I want to work. But the work day moves past me like sludge.

He calls it hormones. He’s probably right. (Stupid little hormones…)

But I want to believe I’ve learned from my past responses to personal pain, that I know better now. That I know the push-it-down-and-move-on approach is not healthy – will not work. So I’m trying to deal with this differently. This is me, scared to share this with you, trying not to hide, trying not to cry alone.

(Why am I writing this sitting in Starbucks?! Excuse me while I go cry in the bathroom alone… Ok, I’m back.)

Kind Words and Unexpected Actions

  • Without many words, Sarah shared this comfort with me from Ann Voskamp. It was timely.
  • Graciously Stacey let me talk, then let me not talk, all morning long. She didn’t even try to fix it.
  • Though our friendship is not closely personal, Jennie brought me food. From a long way away with sick little ones of her own in tow. We were stunned by her kindness.
  • Sister Daisy, put words in writing born from her own sorrow. I don’t even have proper words to respond to her.
  • We had bought tickets to the Jacksonville Symphony for the very day of my great sickness. When they learned we missed the show because of our loss, they freely offered tickets for us to come again. Unexpected compassion from an organization.
  • Many, many text messages, Facebook messages and emails, like little pop up support throughout my long days.

And then there is this.

Trust in Him at all times
Pour out your heart before Him
God is a refuge for us
Psalm 62:8

In the arms of the Holy Spirit, my tears will not stop. And comfort beyond all comfort comes to my heart in this verse. So I continue to pour, and pour, and pour my heart out. And when I do need to hide, I bury my face in Him, my refuge.

The Next & Previous Posts

31 thoughts on “When You Need to Hide”

  1. You have been in my prayers. I sit here crying reading your words. Thank you for sharing your grief as it allows others, like myself, to be impacted… to be humbled before our heavenly Father.

  2. Oh, Karena, we are so sorry for your loss, and we mourn with you and Courtney over this little one. God said He would never leave nor forsake us. He is in the midst of what you are going through and carrying you over this devastation. For He does carry our burden for us, not just a portion, but all.

    Go ahead and cry, letting all of your sadness go until there is none left both now and in the days ahead…. then there can be a time of healing. You are in our thoughts and prayers.

  3. Karena,
    I am so so sorry about this loss. It’s one I have walked 4 times and know all too well. You are not alone. You don’t cry alone. And our Father is good… And he does being healing and new life and a light at the end of what feels like a long, dark tunnel. I will be praying for you. Papa God, fill the holes in my sister’s heart with your goodness. Cover her marriage in this time of loss… Strengthen it Lord. I speak life and restoration over her womb and ask Father for your comfort to be more present than ever before. Amen.

    • Logan, I truly am grateful for the encouragement and prayers. I have noticed that those who have been there before are the most aware of where I am at. Thank you for taking the time to speak encouragement from your own heartbreaking experiences.

  4. I have been there and you are so very brave. Thank you for letting us shoulder some of your burden so that you could know you are not alone.

  5. Sweet friend,
    I’m so sorry to hear this news. My heart aches for you, and I long to hug you tight. I will be praying for you and your hubby as you process this season. Thank you for sharing with us, as we long to know how to pray for you–being the very body of Christ to you. Thank you for drawing near to us instead of running. He will fill you up, and He will sustain you. I love you and I pray that you find peace in the midst of this storm. Love and hugs from VA. xoxoxoxox

    • Dear Mandy, Thank you for your kindness and friendship. I was so looking forward to sharing my joy with you as I know you are closely on this same journey. Perhaps I will soon be able to give happier tidings than these. Thank you for your ongoing encouragement. You’re a blessing to me!

  6. My heart is breaking for you as I read this. I wish with all my heart that you didn’t have to walk through this grief, and I can only imagine how exposed you must’ve felt writing this post. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you? Bring to you?

  7. It is an honor to be your friend. Know Derick and I are lifting you both up. I think of the first line in Handel’s Messiah, “Comfort ye, comfort ye My people. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem…” May you know His comfort in a deeper and more intimate way. Love always – Sarah

    • Sarah, your mind works in the most creative of ways! Thank you for quoting Handel’s Messiah – what a beautiful and comforting line. And thank you for coming and painting with me. As silly as it sounds, it was therapeutic for me to put my mind and hands to that small project.

  8. Karena, I’m so sorry. When we met at Allume, I was right where you are now. Two weeks out from a miscarriage. My heart was broken in a thousand little pieces. Praying God’s comfort for you. And healing. He has so much in store for you.

    • Alison, I remember clearly you sharing of your recent pain when we met at Allume. I also remember not fully comprehending at that time what you were sharing and feeling. It is amazing how much actually living through something (even something as common as a miscarriage) makes a difference in your ability to empathize with others in the same boat. Forgive me if I was not gracious enough in my response to you. And thank you for your kindness now.

  9. Karena,
    I ache for you guys… praying for healing (physical & emotional). May Papa hold you both tightly & whisper peace & hope to the deep places.

    love you guys.

    • Liz, Thank you for that. I was actually going to give you guys the happy news the very weekend all this happened. I later wondered if Mom mentioned it to your mom but then figured she hadn’t. At this point it’s not something you call up to chat about. I do appreciate your comments though – that means a lot.

  10. Karena, I feel your pain and I’m so sorry your are enduring through this. I don’t think there anything worse that getting excited about a baby, and then losing the ability to ever hold the baby in your arms here on earth. The Lord is your refuge! Praying for you!

  11. I remember talking hopes and dreams about motherhood on the long walk from our tents in Panassac. Now, this moment. God is fully aware of both of these times and of all the space in between. Job 23:10-11 AMP
    I love you, friend.


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