Then He said, “…remove your sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” Exodus 3:5

The day dawned like any other day. On this day, my husband Keith and I excitedly traveled to have lunch with our son and daughter-in-law to see the new home they were purchasing for their growing family with a long-awaited first child on the way. We planned to have lunch right after her routine 13-week doctor visit where blood would be drawn to determine the gender of our baby to be joyfully revealed later that month. However, darkness quickly replaced all joy as we learned that the doctor could not find a heartbeat. The news pierced deeply, and we were all instantly reeling from the new reality that death instead of life ushered in so severely. The pain my children felt in that moment was surely unimaginable. I have never experienced a miscarriage but knew it must be so much worse than the soul-gripping pain I felt, both for the loss of a grandchild I instantly loved at the sight of the first sonogram picture and even more so for my children who were having to go through the deep, dark place of mourning instead of a place they had been celebrating and rejoicing over as they planned a life as new parents.

As I went to bed that night, my heart cry continued for God to give comfort and peace, knowing that if this went through His hand, it had to have a greater purpose. In the night, more tearful prayers followed with lamenting in my flesh that it doesn’t seem fair that some wombs ultimately bear life and some do not. Being real with God, I pondered why the unwed with unplanned and unwanted children often enter this world with healthy cries and, all too often, the prepared and longing hearts of established couples experience the pain of loss. Please understand that there was no judgmental root or intention in my heart but only the raw cry to God of what I perceived as a common reality in my flesh. It just didn’t seem fair. But while my mind was tempted to allow these thoughts to take hold exactly as the enemy wanted, my heart knew better.

As the wind blows where it will, so will our God do what He chooses and deems best in any situation. What looks unfair to us is simply a fleshly bias because we cannot see the full scope of what God sees, knows, and is orchestrating.  We must trust even when we cannot see or understand.

In the early morning before dawn, I awoke to a still, small voice resonating in my soul: “The place you are standing is holy ground.” As I prayerfully pondered the significance of those words, I understood that this was more than a place marked by tragedy; it was a sacred place. Just as Moses stood on holy ground in God’s presence in the wilderness, God was fully present in this wilderness…the seemingly empty wasteland we’d never been before. In this empty place, water and manna would surely come, and He would fill those deep cavernous crevices in our hearts. In this wilderness, we would find ourselves intimately drawn nearer to Him, being nourished and comforted by Him in this foreign place. This is also where we would accept the sacred gift of Himself and His comforting presence with praise and trust in the purpose yet still not fully known. And it is a place where I would thank Him for the holy ground that my friends Jessica, Ariann and so many others stood on before me, where they walked through their own miscarriages with a story to tell of how God’s ardent love met them in that place, giving the same comfort we are promised in scripture, a comfort I was now experiencing both by His Holy Spirit and through the incredible hope of their stories.

The reality is that the God who met them in their holy ground spaces is the same God who allows the young mother experiencing the unplanned pregnancy to enter this same holy ground, meeting her in the wilderness with the same purpose of drawing her closer to Himself so that she, too, can experience His deep unfailing and unconditional ardent love.

I breathe in deep with renewed trust in the greater good of circumstance. God’s holiness means that He is set apart, sacred, and pure with a root word that means to be full of awe. He does no wrong and no wrong can be found in things that He allows. I marvel at the awesome nature of my God in His holiness which provides a place of firmness beneath my feet in this place that is set apart and marked as sacred for a greater purpose. Because He is, the ground I, and anyone else enduring a trial, walks on is holy ground.

I do not yet know what will happen next and can’t say for certain that this will end with an answered prayer to have my daughter-in-law deliver a cherished child that we will someday hold. We are not promised another life to replace a fetal death. But we are promised life after death, and I embrace the reality that I will meet this grandchild someday in Heaven. For now, I also embrace the holiness and goodness of God, as well as His ardent love that ensures that no matter what I go through, I am held close and am never alone, confident that come what may, it will be used for good, no less than it was for Jessica, Ariann, or anyone else out there who has experienced the same sacred goodness. Though troubles may come, I am ardently loved by the Holy One, and that is enough because He is enough. 

Ardently His,

Leah

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