This is my first week back in the Church Office after an unexpected absence, and my first blog post for a while too. Sadly, Jo and I have walked through a very difficult summer due to the death of our first grandchild, a little girl called Viola.
An Unexpected Loss
Jo and I were looking forward with great joy to becoming grandparents for the first time this summer. Our daughter Phoebe and her husband Nathan were awaiting the arrival of their first child – a baby girl they had already named Viola.
Phoebe’s pregnancy was full term and completely healthy, but on July 15th things went tragically wrong during delivery. Viola was born via emergency C-section with no heartbeat. It took more than 20 minutes to resuscitate her and, although she survived for a short while, there was severe damage to her brain and other organs.
Viola was with us for just seven precious days. Phoebe and Nathan held her, praying and singing over her as she went to be with Jesus. It has been a heartbreaking summer for us all. Even though we believe with certainty that we will see her again, the pain of her absence is deep and real.
Phoebe and Nathan have shown remarkable strength and grace throughout this ordeal and continue to do so. We were able to walk closely with them, firstly in the hospital and then afterwards as they stayed with us for four weeks after Viola died. Still, this loss has left a hole in our hearts and our family that words cannot fully capture.
“How Can We Help?”
We are deeply grateful for everyone’s prayers and support—it has meant so much. We especially want to thank our friends at Life Church Southampton. While we were far from our Welcome Church family, Life Church welcomed us with practical love: a place to park, a place to sleep, meals when we needed them, washing our clothes, a lot of prayer and so much care. Si and Chris also led a beautiful, though desperately sad, funeral service for Viola. We are so thankful.
Many people have asked:
“Other than praying, is there anything we can do to help?”
The answer is yes – there are two things:
1. Please don’t ask us “How are you?”
Unless you are very close friends, family, or one of our pastors, we’d be grateful if you avoided this question. Anyone who has walked through grief will know how hard it is to answer. Honestly, we don’t even know ourselves how we are most of the time. That doesn’t mean we don’t want friendship or warmth, we need that more than ever, just please don’t put us in the position of trying to answer the unanswerable.
2. Consider donating in Viola’s memory.
Phoebe and Nathan have set up a fundraiser for Ickle Pickles, a charity that provides essential equipment for premature and sick babies. Viola wasn’t premature – she was a full-term, 8lb 6oz baby – but she received care in the NICU alongside premature babies. Supporting this charity felt right to us all, and is a wonderful way to honour her memory. If you’d like to give, please click here and select “Southampton” from the drop-down menu.
Coming Back Into Worship
One of the hardest things for me since losing Viola has been worship. Some lyrics hit me with such force that I struggle to sing them, even though I still believe they are true.
Recently I struggled with this line, from a song we use at Welcome Church (and it’s a great song):
“I sought the Lord and he heard and he answered. That’s why I trust him! That’s why I trust Him!”
Here’s the problem: if that’s the reason we trust Him, what about when we seek the Lord and He doesn’t answer – at least not in the way we hoped? What about when His answer feels like silence, or when His answer is no? Do we still trust Him then?
Of course, there are times when God answers our prayers in wonderful, faith-building ways, and in those moments, that lyric rings true. But if our faith is based only on God doing what we ask, it will not survive in a world where tragedies happen; a world where children sometimes get sick and die, and where brokenness touches us all. There’s a weakness in a faith that’s built on God answering our prayers in ways that we want, and shielding us from loss and tragedy.
It reminds me of the Psalms: not every Psalm is for every moment. Some are full of joy and praise, others are cries of lament. In fact, more Psalms are about pain and trouble than about victory. In the same way, not every worship song is right for every season, and that’s okay.
Here’s what I’ve realised: although God has answered my prayers many times in the past, those moments are not the ultimate reason I trust Him. The real foundation of my trust is what we remember at communion.
I trust God because He entered our world in Jesus Christ – fully man and fully God. He experienced suffering, grief, and loss. I trust Him because He bore our sin on the cross, and because He rose from the grave, giving us the promise of eternal life beyond the grave – a resurrection hope.
And that is my only hope for Viola in this moment of loss: that because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, she is with Him now, and one day we will see her again. I will see her again.
It all comes back to the cross, the empty tomb, and the Saviour who’s gone before us. That’s why, even in grief, we can say with Paul: “We grieve, but not like those who have no hope.”
“That’s why I trust him! That’s why I trust him!”
Thank you for reading, and please don’t forget to consider giving in Viola’s memory.
Steve Petch's Blog 