A QUIET LOVE
Guest Feature
Throughout my life, I have had a few moments in which the Lord was so plainly visible that it was undeniable. It is easy to believe in Jesus in these moments, and they are beautiful and sometimes necessary to revitalize our spirituality. However, in the many moments between these experiences, there have also been times where Christ seems quiet, and it is difficult to believe that He is a present God. My heart has been tempted to believe that He is distant, uncaring, and even cruel. In hindsight, it is in some of these moments which felt so lonely, that He taught me the most about His love.
After meeting and marrying my husband, we soon found out we were expecting our first child. Our hearts were so overjoyed (and nervous) at the reality of starting our family together. Unfortunately, a few short weeks later, we lost our sweet Eden. Our hearts which just a few short days before were filled with love and joy we suddenly shattered. How could losing a baby we only knew for a few short weeks leave such a hole in our hearts? Why would the Lord allow us to experience such a deep loss? I felt guilty and alone. As if my body had betrayed me and as if I had let my husband down.
As I felt alone, trying to make sense of this loss, the Lord continually placed His Mother on my heart. I often reflected on the Passion of Christ from her perspective. I knew how deeply Christ loved His mother, and I found comfort in her company, knowing that she understood the loss that I was experiencing. Even more, it gave me hope that maybe there was something good to come from our suffering, just as there was good which came from her suffering. In her, He reminded me that if He would allow even His beloved mother to experience such a loss, perhaps my loss did not mean that He was punishing me.
In February of 2024, we found out that we were expecting once again. We were cautiously excited for our next chapter. We found out that we were expecting a little girl, and chose her name - Lucy. She felt like a light in the darkness of our loss. As our 20 week anatomy scan approached, I felt the anxiety return. Somewhere, deep in my heart, I felt there was something wrong. After about 20 minutes, the ultrasound technician left the room, returning with my doctor, who told us that our girl no longer had a heartbeat. We returned home and our families came to be with us.
The next day we scheduled our induction. Both of our families were present. I begged the Lord to allow me to see my girl and hold her. Strangely, her labor and delivery was a moment in my life where Christ was undeniably present. Despite medical issues which threatened to steal my chance to see her, there was a supernatural peace which filled the room as we all clung to our rosaries.
It was in the days and weeks that followed her funeral where Christ’s presence in my life could have easily been missed. After everyone went back to their lives, on the silent drive to work or the quiet evenings, so often I felt alone. I clung to my relationship with Him, even though there were many times I was angry and did not want to go to Mass or pray. He spoke to me with gentle whispers: a pointed Mass reading or homily, purple wildflowers (the color which had become associated with Lucy) sprinkling the path to my work, or a song on the radio at just the right moment.
Christ does not promise that living faithfully will be easy. However, He does promise to be with us through it all. As the Evil One whispered lies to lead me away from Him, gently He continued to remind me, “You do not understand, but I do.” Jesus accepted the tiny mustard seed of faith that I had left. He held onto me where my grasp slipped and he never let me fall. When the world challenges your faith and suffering strikes, I can assure you that Christ is right in the midst of that suffering with you. Sometimes it is quiet and gentle, but He never leaves His children alone. We must only allow ourselves to see Him and allow ourselves to be loved.
WRITTEN BY:
Andreya Weaver
About Andreya:
Andreya Weaver lives in Martins Ferry, OH with her husband, unborn son, Judah, and their dog,
Cleopatra. She is a graduate of Franciscan University of Steubenville and works as a behavior
analyst, serving children with Autism and their families. In her spare time, she enjoys spending
time with her family, snuggling her dog, and doing anything artsy.