Carrying a child in the womb is a sacred experience, and the impact upon the mother when the child dies before birth can be emotionally devastating as well as physically challenging to navigate. John Burke, Imagine Heaven.

Last week, I told the story about my baby who was stillborn. I didn’t tell the whole story and there’s a portion I believe is very important.

After my baby was born, I grieved for a long time. The heavy weight in my heart didn’t go away after time. The phrase “time heals all wounds” wasn’t true at all for me.

Within that first year, we sold our home and moved to a new one. Unconsciously, I believed if we moved, the hurt would go away. But it didn’t. “I’m tired of talking about ‘the baby.’ Could we give our baby a name?” I asked.

“What about what we planned to name her. Carrie?” We talked some more and decided on Carrie Lynn. Finally, “the baby” had a name.

From that time on, when we talked about her it was by her name, Carrie. That helped salve the hurt some, but the heaviness was still there. I went on with life. Raising our children. Caring for our household. Yet there was still a raw, unhealed wound deep inside.

Time passed. My husband–Carrie’s father–Bill, died. I remarried and then my second husband died. During the that time, I was challenged in a book to list previous losses in my life. I was surprised that I had many on the list. One of the losses was Carrie. After I listed those losses, I was asked, “Have you grieved those losses?”

I realized I hadn’t one of them. Carrie. It was then I wrote a long letter to her, telling her goodbye. Then I thought of something I could do what I wished I’d have done much earlier. A grave marker with her name on it. The marker was placed right next to her father’s grave. After her birth, there was no burial or committal service for her so I asked my stepson Greg, who was a minister, to officiate at a graveside service for her.

On a sunny Father’s Day afternoon, we gathered there in the cemetery; family members and a few friends. Greg read scripture. We prayed, sang “Jesus Loves Me,” and then released balloons to the sky.

That simple act of having the marker placed next to her father’s grave, the graveside service, and then releasing her to God–more than thirty years later–did something in my soul. It no longer ached. I had much more grief to work through, for my husband had been gone only a few months, but the “Carrie wound” was no longer there.

Recently, I read the book, Imagine Heaven by John Burke, where true stories of near-death experiences offered real life evidence drawn from Scripture. Reading the book has given me comfort in the fact that my Carrie–along with many other loved ones who’ve placed their trust in Jesus Christ–are in a beautiful place where they are happy and content. Most of all, they are with Jesus.

One of the stories in the book was from Marvin Besteman. He described this:  “I saw babies and children and grown-ups of all ages playing and talking and laughing on grass that was the greenest green I’ve ever seen.”

Today, are you mourning the wrenching loss of a child? It could be a miscarriage or stillbirth, a young child, or an adult. Through my experience of facilitating grief groups, it seems losing a child is the most difficult to endure.

Sometimes, though, your child is alive but you are alienated for some reason. They have rejected their faith you thought they believed in. They’ve rejected the way you raised them. What can you do about it? My simple suggestion is to take it to Jesus, who deeply cares about you and your child. He knows about your situation and grieves with you. Ask him to heal your hurts and separation whether it is emotionally or death.

I like what it says in the gospel of Mark:

Then some people came to him bringing little children for him to touch. The disciples tried to discourage them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant and told them, “You must let little children come to me—never stop them! For the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Indeed, I assure you that the man who does not accept the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Then he took the children in his arms and laid his hands on them and blessed them (Mark 10: 13-16 Phillips).

“Father God, I ask you to heal the deep wounds through the loss of a child. You know the loss, because you gave your only Son, Jesus. Please help the griever work through the grief and bring them to the other side of grief. For those parents who are grieving alienation, help them in whatever way works best.  Thank you that you love us–and our children–more than we can ever imagine. In the name of Jesus, Amen.”

I really like this song. In truth in the end, all is well.