Through Your Pain, We Love Him More

Have you ever been around some one who is going through something really hard. Like really hard. I’ve had the privilege of walking along side some friends in hard times and I’ve been walked beside and held up by some wonderful friends. In those times, if God gets the glory, doesn’t it just keep you coming back? Doesn’t it make you stop and wait and want to see more of God? As much as you don’t want those trials for the ones you love or for yourself…doesn’t it just make you thirsty? Doesn’t it just show you the most raw and gritty picture of the need and desperation in your own heart? Maybe I’m alone in this, but something about the closeness of Christ in those trials…it speaks to me.

When we go through trials, we find ourselves wanting to know that it’s going to help someone one day. We want assurance that God will actually be glorified. But the glory for God is already there. For those who are hurting and reaching and needing God, for those who are seeking and finding Him right where He promised He’d be…you’ve glorified Him. You have shown so much of the Gospel, you have magnified His name, you have helped us…by your pain. You have helped us by your steadfastness in the face of suffering. It wasn’t perfect or pretty, but it was real and it was honest and it was the widow’s mite. When you sought to love Him as life bruised and beat you, you showed us how desirable Jesus is for us everyday. When you were carried by God and rung out the tiniest bit of faith from your broken heart, you challenged us. Just because there are no speaking engagements or coffee dates or viral blogs to tell your story…you helped us still.

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Romans 5:1-5, ESV)

July Reflection

Three years ago at this time I was shell shocked and nervous and scared.

Two years ago at this time I was full of fear living on the edge of panic.

One year ago at this time I was crushed and afraid and secretive.

Three years ago at this time, I was scared because He had given me a child.

Two years ago at this time, I was scared because He had taken one away already.

One year ago at this time, I was scared because He had given me back two fold, what I once feared would never be again.

Three years ago at this time, Lyric had just been born and had an unexpected surgery and we moved across the country.

Two years ago at this time, I found out I was pregnant with Lily and scared out of my mind that I would have another miscarriage and that I would never carry another of our children to term again.

Three years ago at this time, I found out I was unexpectedly pregnant with Fletcher, everything about my plans made sense and nothing about this surprise seemed to work in my mind, I was terrified about what the future would be like.

This summer I realized that all my fears had been proven wrong. The teeny tiniest seeds of belief from those times have been blessed beyond what I ever imagined.

And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.” (Luke 1:45, ESV)

Three babies from Katy Tullos on Vimeo.

"Let love be genuine;" Being there for your friend

I'm so excited to have my first ever guest co-writer on this blog! Olivia is close friend that I met when we moved here (Quad Cities, Iowa). Olivia shares a story similar in nature to mine. During this heartbreaking season of our lives, both of us have experienced an amazing God, amazing scripture, amazing prayers, and amazing fellowship. We have both experienced what it is like to be the friend-in-need and the friend-of-a-grieving-friend, and it showed both of us the true need for someone to shed some light on how to handle miscarriage. I was talking with a mutual friend on the phone recently and she said something that got me thinking, "it seems like this happens so much, but I still don't really know how to handle it or what to say." And she was right, miscarriage is more common than you realize and also very common--not knowing how to react (or even if you should react) as a loved one. Thus the reason for this post, to attempt to encourage and communicate how or what or when you should react as a friend.

Accept it, embrace it. Even though everyone's natural tendency is to take the bad and turn it into good, there is an important part of grief that simply cannot be overlooked. Acceptance. There is a reason that denial is a stage of grief, because accepting it is so hard. But your friend desperately needs you to accept her loss. She needs you to sit in her grief with her. No, you don't need to be a debbie-downer, but sometimes the best thing you can do is feel with her. You are not going to make her feel worse when you say sincerely..."I'm so sorry" "I can't imagine how hard this must be" "I hate this for you, I'm here for you, and I'm praying for you." Being optimistic isn't bad, just make sure that you are doing so without trying to brush the loss under the rug. It's hard to grieve with a friend, but when you do she won't feel so alone--which is a beautiful thing.

Say something. Say anything, but not anything. Since our miscarriage several friends have shared with me that they thought of me and prayed for our family often and wanted to say something, but just didn't know what to say. I think that we all have a little voice in the back of our minds telling us that if we say something that we might be one of those people who just end up saying all the wrong things. But the catch is that by not saying anything to your friend who lost her baby so you won't hurt her or remind her about her pain, you really just make her feel like you are ignoring a massive gnash in her heart and don't care at all. Honestly, you can say most things. You can especially say things like, "I'm so sorry" and "I'm praying for you" or "Is there anything you need?" or even the most feared..."Do you want to talk about it?" More than anything, your friend needs love and encouragement and support. You are her friend, so don't be afraid of showing her friendship.


Bring food, bring flowers, bring Starbucks. Just know that you aren't going to fix it. Yes, your friend is capable of cooking herself her favorite comfort meal or driving through Starbucks, but I can guarantee you that she won't. And nothing you can bring her will make her feel right or normal, but it will make her feel loved. Loved because you care, loved because you know her, and loved because when you have a crappy day you just want your favorite things.


Encourage with truths and promises of Scripture. When you aren't sure what your friend needs, give her scripture. It NEVER fails. It is NEVER void. It is NEVER hopeless.


"...For we were so utterly burdened beyond strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead." 2 Corinthians 1:8b-9

"During those many days the king of Egypt died, and the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. And God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel- and God knew." Exodus 2:23-25

"Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words." Romans 8:26

"O Lord, all my longing is before you; my sighing is not hidden from you." Psalm 38:9

"Let your UNFAILING LOVE surround us, Lord, for our hope is in you alone." Psalm 33:22

"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18

"I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world." John 16:33

Pray for and pray over. The day we found out about our miscarriage we saw some of our dear friends and that night (although I probably wouldn't have planned to visit friends) was an enormous blessing to me. My beloved friend Camie had the most loving reaction to our bad news, she let herself cry in front of me and simply said "there are no words" as she squeezed me tight. Seeing her pain over our pain made me feel literally covered in love. That night while Austin had to be out, she prayed over me and on my behalf and reminded me of the biblical truths of God's grace and mercy and love. In that moment I didn't even know how to pray for myself, and her prays truly interceded for me until I found a way to put my prayers to words.

"Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer." Romans 12:12

Be there. Go out or stay in, but be available. One of the biggest reliefs I experienced in early days of our miscarriage is that I had Olivia with me to return newly purchased maternity clothes and then grocery shop together. When we got to the customer service counter of Target, Liv totally took charge so that I didn't have to. It might just be my memory, but I am sure that she sent out the vibes to the Target lady not to even ask why I had to return my items. It was such a simple little thing, but it meant so much to me. It meant that I didn't have to face it alone.


No offense. Even if you could completely know how your friend feels, she might not care or feel that you do. In moments of grief, sometimes sensitivity is not the characteristic that you friend is exhibiting to you. So just keep that in mind if she says something with a little snap or an attitude of "what I am going through is worse than anything anyone has ever experienced" (because in that moment, those feelings are completely valid to her). This doesn't meant that your friend has a right to treat you with less respect than you deserve, but just understand that she is under a thick fog of pain and when she breaks through it, she will have a little (try alot) more clarity.


What not to say.   "This is why you don't tell that you are pregnant so early." "Well I'm glad because I know you were kind of freaked out about being pregnant." "Well at least now you can (eat sushi, drink wine, live off caffeine, lift heavy objects, eat rare steak, soft cheeses, and deli meat)." Also, anything that might hint that God is punishing, or that once your friend is pregnant again this will all be forgotten. Just stay away from those things. I wish I could give more insight, but honestly...just don't say those things.


Endure. At some point, you will see your friend emerge from her fog of grief and get back to "normal." She will want to do things you used to do together and laugh and goof around and watch chick flicks. Be careful that you never forget what she went through and keep in mind that she might have a rough week come out of the blue. There will come a time when she doesn't need to talk it out or cry on your shoulder, but her miscarriage will always be a part of who she is.


My deepest and most sincere hope is that you can be helped by our experiences. I know that for every woman that can relate to the loss of a miscarriage there is at least a handful (if not two or three or four handfuls) of dear sisterfriends that love her and care. Words cannot express how much the women in my life meant to me in my time of need. Austin and I both were blessed by the friends and loved ones who stuck closely to us during our miscarriage. We love you all and hope that we have the privilege to love and serve you the way you have for us.

*We are by no means the authority on miscarriage. We realize that not every one feels or needs the same things. Between each of our experiences these are the things we agree on.

Discovering Bitterness

I am so inspired to write, I just read so many awesome posts from my reel. So I decided to reach back into my "back-logged and previously written, but not yet publish-perfect" drafts, add on, edit, and post.


I always thought that when people get to the point where they "grieve over their sin," it was a good thing. And it is a good thing... except it feels awful. In the months following our miscarriage (four months to be exact) I've found that 95% of the time I can go through my day being thankful for both of my babies, the one who is here with us and the one who is with the Father. I can think about that little one and not be filled with sadness or sorrow or disappointment or anger or jealousy or regret or shame. But then there is that sneaky remaining 5%. It's never expected, but something random will happen in a random day or I will read something or I will hear something, and here I am. Here I am aching from a whole in my heart, hurting from the void in our lives and filled with this burning thing. Burning too deep and so real that all I can think about is that one thing I read or that one careless comment I heard.
It's bad enough when those things happen in and of themselves. But to be filled with grief and then realize...this thing, this burning thing...it's bitterness. It's sin. I had it hidden, way deep under here. And it grieves me. It hurts. I hate it. I wanted to think that I was passed that. No, more than "passed," I wanted to think that I avoided it altogether. I wanted to think that I loved God enough and clung to Him tightly enough and hid enough scripture in my heart, that I wouldn't have to deal with my sin on top of my grief. I don't want this bitterness, it feels like taking a step backwards. And I can't go back. I won't go back.

But it isn't a total step backwards, grieving my sin is a step towards repentance. I thought grieving your sin meant being a super spiritual person. I thought it would be awesome. But really, the heartbreak of my own sin and the tension that sin brings between me and my sweet Jesus...it feels terrible. But like all grief...it's taking me somewhere, it is moving me forward. It's bringing me to repentance and amazing grace.

green under all this gray

I find myself hesitating to use gardening as an analogy or metaphor in this blog, hasn't it been done enough? But I absolutely cannot hold my compulsion to rejoice out of pure desperation for spring. Warm days have come and gone and since been forgotten with no notion of spring in my mind. But this weekend I made amateur attempts to garden in warm weather. Our flower bed was completely covered with ugly browns and grays (usually my favorite colors in clothing, but not so much for nature) I found myself thirsty for more green with each new leaf and bloom that appeared.

This year, I needed spring. No, you don't understand...I needed spring. I needed to see the life and hope and newness of the green after a long desolate winter. I needed to see that He can and does make all things new. I need to see that for every winter comes a spring. Each of those winters with its unique snow flakes and blizzards and each spring with its new surprises and colors and smells. I could cry just thinking about the promises of spring. With every pile of dead winter plant carcasses I pulled out of our garden, I could breathe a little more. I experienced more freedom with each fist full of muck that disappeared.

Thank you for spring! I can dance again. Healing is in your hands.