The loss of a child is painful, deeply painful.
Fifteen years ago, my wife and I experienced our first certain miscarriage. I was a new dad, and then, just like that, it was over. The loss was so unexpected. The ache went deep, to my soul’s core. And in the midst of my own sorrow and weeping, I was attempting to care for my grieving wife. For two years and three months, she battled with God, until her sense of his sovereignty was matched by the torrent of his love.
Four years ago, our lives were rocked into mourning again when an attempted adoption failed. I was out with my son building bunk beds for him and his soon-to-be brother, when the call came. The little three-year old orphan who so desperately needed a family, whom we had already grown to love as our own, who would bear my name in just seven more days –– this child would remain an orphan and no longer be adoptable. Our hearts were crushed as we entered into a fresh season of God proving his worth above all else.
Looking to Jesus
Written by Jason DeRouchie
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