When Your Loss Doesn't Come with a Casserole

Ryan Cole and his wife Kelsey were days away from

bringing their son, Whitson, home when they lost him. The

nursery was ready and the bags were packed, with the car seat

already waiting in the back. At 36 weeks, everything stopped.

Whitson never came home. It wasn't their only loss. By the

time Ryan started talking publicly about what they had

been through, he and Kelsey had walked through five pregnancies

that ended nearly the same way. After each one, the support

showed up for Kelsey. Meals arrived at the door, messages

filled the mailbox, and people called to check on her and sat

with her through the hardest days. That's what you do when a

mother loses a baby, and the people around them did it well.

But nobody called Ryan. He said later that men are the

overlooked partners in pregnancy loss. The grief is present, and

the loss is his, and it's something felt strongly, but

nobody has built a category for it. Nobody shows up with a

casserole for the father, and the world doesn't have a script

for that conversation. So most men carry what they're carrying

in silence, assuming that what they feel doesn't count the same

way. Ryan eventually co-founded Four Known Ministries to make

sure other fathers didn't have to do what he had done. We'll

come back to what he said about that. But

first, welcome to Daily Devotions for Busy Lives. I'm

Bart Leger. Catherine and I lost a granddaughter at full term.

Our daughter and son-in-law named her Hope. And I'm glad I

got to hold her. I held a lifeless little body that should

have come home with them, and I wasn't ashamed to cry, I'll tell

you. That loss didn't come with so much of a category either.

Grandparents are always who people think to call, but the

grief was there, and we felt it very strongly. I tell you that

because today's episode is about the losses that don't come with

a casserole. Some grief the world knows how to receive.

Someone dies after a long illness, and the church brings

food and the cards arrive. People ask how you're doing for

weeks afterward, and that's a good thing. The community of

faith doing what it's supposed to do. But there's another

category of grief that doesn't always come with any of that.

The miscarriage early enough that nobody knows you were

pregnant. The friendship that ended without explanation. And

the dream you let go without telling anyone. It's a real loss,

and the world doesn't necessarily have a name or a

category for it, so you carry it alone. Here's what Psalm 34, 18

says.

Grief doesn't sort it out itself by who noticed. Because the loss

is the loss. What you felt when that friendship ended was grief.

What you felt when the pregnancy was over before anyone else knew

was grief. And God sees it as such, whether or not the people

around you did. I've sat with people who couldn't explain why

they were grieving at all, because the loss didn't fit any

category the world would understand. A woman who mourned

the end of a season of ministry that nobody else had noticed. A

man who carried the weight of a miscarriage. Some told him to

just move past. Someone who grieved a version of their life

they had given up so long ago, They felt foolish bringing it up.

Every one of those losses counted. God was close to every

one of those people, too. Unrecognized grief has a way of

going underground when there's no one to bring it to. And it

doesn't stay there. I will tell you that. It comes out as

sometimes distance from others or maybe as a bitterness that

surprises you. Bring it to God specifically. And even say it

out loud. And sometimes we can't find the words for it. That's

what the Holy Spirit's for. He brings prayers that we can't

even put into words. He brings it to God. And sometimes, even

when we feel foolish saying it, just tell God what you're

feeling. Because he already knows. And he's already close to

you if you're one of his. Psalm 34 says so. Now, let's get back

to Ryan. Ryan described the experience of grieving a child

as a father this way. The loss is yours, and it's also

invisible to almost everyone around you. He was grateful for

the people who brought the casseroles. But he noticed that

when the door closed at the end of the night and everyone went

home, he was standing in the same house with the same loss,

and nobody had asked him a single question how he was doing.

God doesn't do that to us. Psalm 34, 18 says he's close to the

brokenhearted. And it doesn't add a footnote about what kind

of broken heart qualifies. Because Ryan's grief counted. It

qualified. And so does yours, whatever shape it comes in. Ryan

helped build foreknown ministries out of that

experience so that other fathers in pregnancy loss would find

someone who understood in a language for what they were

carrying. He took the thing nobody had a name for, and he

built a language for others. Sometimes the unrecognized loss

stays private, and you just need God to hold it with you. And

that's enough. Bring it to him today, whatever it is. Here's

today's challenge. Name the loss you've been carrying without a

category. Say it to God specifically today. And tell him

what it was and what it cost you.

Lord, you see the losses the world doesn't give a name to,

and you see the grief nobody brought a casserole for. Please

draw close to the ones carrying those things today. Let them

trust that your closeness doesn't depend on whether anyone

else noticed. You see every broken and you're already near.

In Jesus' name, amen. If this episode touched you or has

encouraged you, I'd love to hear from you. You can leave me a

voicemail at dailydevotionsforbusylives.com

slash voicemail, and it would be an honor to pray for you by name.

Thanks for joining me on Daily Devotions for Busy Lives.

Remember, the size of your loss is not determined by whether the

people around you recognize it, because God sees it, and He's

close to you. Come back next time for more encouragement to

help you live grounded in God's truth. Until then, God bless,

and have a great day.