March 3, 2025
by Emma Seed
Lent is about to begin for 2025 and all I can think of is where we were this time last year. I was excited for 40 days of pursuing God in a new way, but it turned out to be one of the most painful times of my life.
A few days into Lent, we lost our baby. After just one week of knowing her, we had a miscarriage. When I first started bleeding, I wept. I wailed. Feeling completely broken, I passed our baby over to Papa God. No matter what happened next, I knew she would be safe in His arms.
As we got further into lent, the waves of my grief felt like they would swallow me up. It seemed like week after week there was something new, just piling on the pain and fear. Luka had two accidents, one of which we ended up in ED for. A tummy bug went through the house, and Luka started getting night terrors.
Now none of these were life threatening and on their own, or at a different time, I would have had the resiliency to manage them with grace. But at the time, it just felt like I kept getting knocked while I was down – pushed deeper and deeper into my grief. In the depths of it, fear overcame me and I began to wonder if I would lose Luka too.
Just a few weeks earlier, before I even knew we were pregnant, I was talking to God about some decisions we needed to make as a family. I was scared about a particular opportunity we had been given, and worried about how it would affect Luka. God challenged me and asked, “Will you trust me with Luka’s wellbeing? Will you trust me with your family’s wellbeing?” I responded very honestly, “I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t know if I can let go of control.”
You see, I have a history of postpartum anxiety. When Luka was a baby, I had a lot of anxiety around his safety and had a tendency to catastrophise situations. Counselling, and the end of a long 2 years of sleep deprivation, had helped me move through most of it. However, I still feel physically ill when Luka hurts himself and I continue to get the occasional intrusive thought.
I felt less anxious when I felt in control. I still do!
But – control is not peace.
Jesus is the Prince of Peace. The one who suffered death for me, but conquered the grave. He is my peace. He is my hope.
So, as I lay in bed next to my 3 year old at 3am, listening to his screams during a night terror, I just cried out to God. “I can’t take this anymore. I cannot be in control of the safety of my family. It’s just too much. God I surrender myself, and my family to you. I am too broken. I am too scared. You’ve got to take it from here.”
The end of lent was approaching. Easter Weekend. Resurrection Sunday. When I realised that I would be ovulating around Easter Weekend, I wondered if this is how our story would end? Would we get pregnant again? Would this be our resurrection story?
While at church on Resurrection Sunday, I saw a picture of God giving me back my baby girl. He took her from His arms and placed them in mine. Sure enough, a couple of weeks later we found out we were pregnant.
A year later, here we are holding our precious baby girl.
Eden Amalia.
Our Heaven on Earth.
God’s work.
A living testimony of the tender mercy of God and His everlasting faithfulness.
I still feel pain when reflecting on that time, but I sit weeping for a different reason this year. God is good and His promises are true. My family, my children, are forever safe in His arms.
So, for anyone who still feels like they’re in the desert, don’t give up on Him yet. Maybe it’s been a lot longer than 40 days. Maybe it’s been 40 years. However long, remember that the light shines brightest in the darkness.