Psalm 3:3-5 CSB – But you, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, and the one who lifts up my head. I cry aloud to the Lord, and he answers me from his holy mountain. I lie down and sleep; I wake again because the Lord sustains me.
In the fall of 2019, after more than a year of trying, we learned that Anneke was pregnant, and the joy of that moment felt like a breath of hope after a long wait. In October of that year, we lost the baby, and the grief of it was heavier than we expected. Not long after, Anneke became pregnant again, and in January 2020, we experienced the same heartbreak for a second time. We prayed constantly during those months, crying out for God to intervene, to deliver us from the pain of loss and the fear of what might come next. The prayers were raw and desperate, and from our perspective, they seemed to meet silence, leaving us sad, angry, bitter, and exhausted from the weight of disappointment.
After the second miscarriage, something unexpected happened that we didn’t fully recognize at the time. When we finally reached a point where we could attend church again, two couples we deeply admired began sitting near us each Sunday. One couple sat directly in front of us, and the other sat directly behind us, forming a kind of sheltering presence that we didn’t ask for but desperately needed. They didn’t press for details, didn’t offer clichés, and didn’t intrude on the fragile space we were trying to hold together. Instead, they positioned themselves around us, creating a sense of protection at a time when we felt vulnerable and exposed. After a couple of months, almost as if the season of shielding had fulfilled its purpose, we all drifted back to our usual spots.
Looking back now, I can’t see any explanation other than God providing for us in a way that didn’t require words or explanations. We were shielded from well-intentioned people who might have said thoughtless things without meaning harm. We were shielded from those who were curious but insensitive to the emotional cost of reliving the trauma. God kept many of those interactions away from us until we had enough strength to stand again. That experience confirmed something I didn’t fully grasp in the moment. Even when we didn’t understand why we were walking through such loss, and even when it felt like our prayers had gone unanswered, God was still with us. He provided exactly what we needed through the presence of His people, and even now I don’t pretend to know why we had to face what we faced. But I do know that He sustained us while we endured it, and He surrounded us when we couldn’t hold ourselves up.