How Walking the Road of Suffering Helped Me Now See the Sweetness of Joy

On the days between Christmas and New Years, it’s all about comfort, relaxation, and vacation. No one knows or cares what day it is. Cheers to bleary days filled with rich leftovers in sporadic snacks, playing with new Christmas presents, and watching movies.

But between the festivities of holiday winter days in 2022, our family grieved pregnancy loss.

We rang in the 2023 new year begging God to draw near to us in our heartbreak. Assuredly, we felt what it meant to be crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18).

My first pregnancy with my son in 2020 was so special. I knew from the beginning that he was a miracle. I think God allowed me to wait two and a half years filled with prayer, medical appointments, tears, and trying before my first pregnancy in order to soften my heart and ready me for motherhood.

In hindsight, I see glimmers of what the Lord was doing to make me appreciate becoming a mom and preparing me for the road of frequent sacrifice ahead. Sometimes we value something more greatly when it doesn’t come easy.

The waiting journey reoriented me, increased my grit, but also made me more tender and loving towards my son.

We tried for a year for baby number 2, and on my son’s second birthday, our pregnancy test was positive. We rejoiced. But we were also so stressed. My husband was freshly laid off. Fortunately, he lined up some part time contract work right away. We were thankful and cautiously reserved regarding relief.

I had a lot of anxious thoughts at that time. Second guessing everything. Where would we fit a new baby in our tiny house? How would we provide? Have enough time? Enough love in my heart?

Seasoned mamas would assure me, as would the Lord on the suffering road, that there was more than enough room. More than enough of everything. Our baby was and is loved and wanted.

And the room made for her and left in her earthly absence, the Lord has filled with His presence. Storing my tears in His bottle (Psalm 56:8). And meeting me with the comfort of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 1:3-4).

In my darkest hour, when I had no strength to walk into the hospital in the early morning hours of December 29, Jesus strengthened me and carried me (Isaiah 53:4; Isaiah 41:10 & 29).  Though I walked through the valley of the shadow of death, He was with me and comforted me (Psalm 23).

“Though my flesh and my heart failed, the Lord remains the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Psalm 73:26). As I recovered and grieved, in January 2023, the sky opened up in frequent torrential downpours. And I praised God for this fitting archetype, as if all of heaven wept with me.

As I cried out to the Lord day and night, He was near to me, my refuge and strength, my very present help in time of need (Psalm 46:1).

I felt tempted to be angry and confused. To blame God. And felt an inclination to be justified that He could have healed me and our baby, and I would have glorified him. I could have been writing a different story.

The Lord gently reminded me how His power, might, and abilities far surpass my human capacities to understand (Job 38).

This was a familiar reminder spoken to me before as the Lord ministered to me in the waiting for my first baby. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” Isaiah 55: 8-9.

My soul is tethered to and expectant for heaven because my daughter is there. I long for heaven with amplified hope and expectation because of her. This is an incredible gift that I could not grasp or fathom if not for walking the suffering road of loss.

My heart is tender. Soft. Broken wide open because of her. And God works mightily in all of that. None of the pain is wasted.

God meets me as waves of grief wash over me every time. The Lord’s compassion for me in the depths of grief has given way for me to know greater joy, depth, familiarity, and comfort from God.

As I held my miracle rainbow baby daughter born the following year in December 2023, and as I get to raise my miracle kids growing up before my eyes, I am in awe of the God who sees. The God who heard my prayers and answered with mercy (1 Samuel 1: 10-11 & 20).

The Lord owes me nothing. And even as I suffered greatly under His watchful eyes and sovereign allowance, I could not go anywhere where His spirit did not meet me (Psalm 139:7).

I could not know the sweetness of joy today. Could not revel in it. Or sit in awe as I do if I did not walk the suffering road. He was with me every step of the way and paved the path for me.

Alyssa Elaine Smith is a follower of Jesus and applied sociologist turned stay at home homeschooling mom. She writes in fits and spurts in the fringe hours on faith, motherhood, miscarriage, postpartum recovery, and marriage. She makes her home in Southern California with her husband of 14 years, her 5-year-old son and 2-year-old daughter. You can find her sharing the gospel of Jesus with words of encouragement @alyssaelainesmith on Instagram or email alyssaelainesmith@gmail.com