This miscarriage outreach ministry is consecrated and dedicated to the One Almighty God.





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Narrative of PSALM 88

I wrote this narrative when I was grieving
the loss of our third baby to the miscarriage
experience. After time and faith helped comfort
me I wrote a narrative of Thanksgiving to God.

 

Lament of My Miscarriage

O Lord, my God, by day I cry out;
at night I clamor in your presence
about the death of my baby.
Let my prayer come before you;
incline your ear to my call for help,
For my soul is heavy with troubles
and my life draws near to the nether
world of depression and despair.
I am numbered with those who
experience a miscarriage and go
down into the pit;
I am a woman without strength.
My uncertainty is among the dead,
like the slain who lie in the grave,
I question, blame and shame myself with
Why me? Why us?
Only if I wouldn’t have worked
so hard and been stressed?
Maybe I shouldn’t have exercised?
Maybe we should have immediately
told family and friends that we
were expecting a baby?
Why did we wait?
I do not want to forget my baby,
who is cut off from my
care, hope and dreams.
You have plunged me into the bottom
of the pit,
into the dark abyss.
Upon me your wrath lies heavy,
and the lack of support on earth over-
whelms me.
You have taken my family and friends away
from me because they do not acknowledge
my grief and loss of a child of God.
You have made me an abomination
to them;
I am imprisoned, and cannot es-
cape.

 

II
My eyes have grown dim through
affliction;
daily I call upon you, O Lord;
to you I stretch out my hands.
Will you work wonders for the dead?
Will the shades arise to give you
thanks?
Do you declare your kindness in the
grave,
Your faithfulness among those who
have perished?
Are your wonders made known in the
isolation and depression,
Or your justice in the land of ob-
livion and I cannot touch or
feel your grace and love?

 

III
But I, O Lord, cry out to you;
with my morning prayer I wait upon
you,
Why, O Lord, do you reject me;
why hide from me your face?
I am afflicted and in agony from
the words and actions,
or lack of words and actions;
from my family, friends, church,
spiritual leaders and
medical care system.
I am dazed with the burden of your
dread.
Your furies have swept over me;
your terrors have cut me off.
They encompass me like water all the
day;
on all sides they close in upon me.
Companion and neighbor you have
taken away from me;
my only friend is isolation and pain.

 

 

 
© 2007 created by Kristi Warne
The Holy Bible is used in this narrative and
Our Almighty God deserves to receive praise for the Psalm.
The Mysterious Miscarriage Sisterhood, Inc.