She couldn’t speak, yet her life spoke to so many.

317 days she was on this earth. She couldn’t speak . . . only one word she said before she passed. One precious word: “Mama.”

I can still hear it clear as day.

I remember the moment she was born.

I looked at her daddy with tear-streaked cheeks, shaking as I heard her cry. The nurse said, “You have a baby girl!” and I was in such awe. I looked at her daddy whispering, “We have a baby girl.” I was in complete adoration. From her dainty little fingers to her delicate features.

I remember the nap times. The ones where she would snuggle right up on my arm.  She felt safe, and I felt so in love. I investigated those big, beautiful blue eyes, and I would smile with a joy I could never express.

RELATED: What They Don’t Tell You about Child Loss

It used to keep me awake at night—I would cry, I would pray, and I would seek where the purpose was. You get every single day with your child. You know them intuitively. You know them intricately. I knew my daughter. I knew how incredible she was. I knew that God created her, but yet . . . He took her.

Where was the purpose?

The purpose was in those 317 days that we got to love her.

The purpose was that we learned she was our gift. A gift is not something that we own, a gift is something given—Sarah was our gift. God gave her to us for a time, and with a gentle hand, He took her. He took her with Him to heaven, and He left us here with a story to tell. He left us here with her legacy to share.

RELATED: God is There For the Hard Parts

We have a beautiful family picture I got made up the summer before Sarah passed. It is hung by the door so you can see it before you leave. I did that on purpose. Every time I leave, I get to see her big smile, but I always watch others look up and study it.  People that know our story and people that don’t. I often wonder what people think. Sometimes it leads to a story for those who don’t. I get an opportunity to share the love and joy behind that beautiful smile and the faith we have.

I know so many and have heard so many stories of how Sarah’s story has touched them. The most touched being our own. My dad was the first person I called when I found out Sarah had passed. Weeks later, He said to me, “I didn’t realize how strong my faith was until we lost Sarah.”

Sarah’s life was one of hope—hope in today and hope in heaven.

Hope in Jesus and hope that we will see our sweet girl again. Sarah’s life holds more purpose than I believe I will see this side of heaven, and I believe it is our joy to share that hope with others.

When I said goodbye to my beautiful daughter, I kissed her on the forehead, and with tears in my eyes, told her this isn’t the end. This isn’t goodbye. I told her to enjoy Jesus and heaven, and all the beautiful things. That one day, I would too.

Our hope is not in vain, our hope is eternal.

You see my sweet girl, you couldn’t talk but your life spoke to many . . . all 317 days of it.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Kristen Murphy

My name is Kristen Murphy.  My husband and I reside in beautiful Alberta, Canada in a small town.  We have three beautiful children; Ryan, Sarah and Caleb.  On October 4, 2019 our daughter Sarah went to be with Jesus.  My hearts joy is to write about what that has all entailed and to be able to help others walking through loss.

“It’s Sarah. She’s Gone.”

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Toddler next to baby sister's grave, black-and-white photo

October 4, 2019. “Hi, Kristen. This is the constable. I need you to give me a call.”  Those words will forever ring clear in my mind. My husband and I just found out we were expecting our third baby. We were going to have three—three and under. Afraid, thrilled, and overwhelmed, I ended up getting checked by the doctor that Friday morning, just to make sure everything was OK. Those were the words that met me as I ended my hospital visit and checked my voicemail. I quickly dialed back, the most afraid I have ever been in my life....

Keep Reading

The Impossible Grief of Child Loss Hurts Forever

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Man with arm around woman

When you’ve lost a child absolutely EVERYTHING is hard.  There are days that just getting out of bed can be a chore after losing a child.  Your will for life changes after experiencing every parent’s worst nightmare.  Everywhere you look in your house serves as a reminder of what once was but is no longer.  RELATED: The Question No Grieving Mother Wants To Hear Every momentous occasion is marked with a huge absence. And it’s not really a choice. Even if you try not to focus on it (which is nearly impossible), the void is always there.  Every celebration is...

Keep Reading

Losing a Child Changes Everything

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Woman at beach sunset

I‘ve had my life planned out since I was a teenager. My dreams were to be a teacher, wife, and mom in that order. I would teach elementary school and have the cutest classroom with the greatest lessons, and I’d teach until I was old and retired. The man of my dreams would sweep me off my feet in college, and we’d have a romantic wedding and start our great life together. Then, after a few years, we would have two children, a boy and a girl. We would be a blissfully boring, happy little family.  I didn’t want extravagant...

Keep Reading

What is Faith When You Lose a Child?

In: Faith, Grief
Sad woman crying by water

“To have faith is to be sure of the things we hope for, to be certain of the things we cannot see” (Hebrews 11:1). “We live by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7). Regardless of which scripture you are familiar with, these verses are both talking about faith and something we either have, think we have, or have no idea what it is. Faith sounds like something that appears to be real and of substance but yet not seen. It can be very confusing. We can have faith as small as a mustard seed that moves mountains as it...

Keep Reading