In his famous hymn “Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken,” Henry Lyte writes, “With Thy favor, loss is gain.” His lyrics capture a paradox of the heart of the Christian life. Gaining Christ comes through the loss of all things, a sentiment that echoes the apostle Paul’s expectations (Phil. 3:7).

Brittany Lee Allen, a writer and mother, applies this principle of gaining through loss to the heartbreak of miscarriage in Lost Gifts: Miscarriage, Grief, and the God of All Comfort. Allen is no stranger to the sorrow of loss in the womb. “I left the hospital that day with a heart so full of grief, there was no room left for more,” she writes. “But I was forced to make room, as I lost two more precious and deeply loved babies to miscarriage. I felt life perish from within my body three times. Grief upon grief upon grief” (2).

But she’s also familiar with knowing Christ as gain in and through her loss. “The absence of our baby can leave us clawing at Jesus’s feet at the throne of grace—the place we are promised mercy,” she notes. “To know him more is to treasure him more. Jesus is not a consolation prize for the loss of your unborn babies. He is the prize—the Treasure that surpasses all other treasures” (4). These twin experiences—grief and grace—shaped Allen into a capable guide on the hard path of miscarriage.

Gifts Lost

After my wife and I lost a third baby to miscarriage, I heard a politician commenting on abortion legislation. He assured listeners there was no cause for concern—it only allowed abortions of babies up to a certain age. That age included the child we’d just lost. The implication? Our child was “no big deal.” Pro-choice culture aggravates the pain of pregnancy loss.

In contrast, Lost Gifts makes clear what grieving parents know: Miscarriage is a big deal. Drawing on history, science, and the Bible, Allen reminds miscarriage parents that they lost a real child. “Every child is a blessing,” she writes. “This includes the ones we never got to meet on earth. They are gifts from above, even if we only knew of their existence for a few days” (19). Because each child is a blessing, each miscarriage is a lost gift—a reason to grieve. But mourning miscarriage is rarely straightforward.

Lost Gifts makes clear what grieving parents know: Miscarriage is a big deal.

Since I wrote about my experience as a four-time miscarriage father, I’ve had countless conversations with grieving dads. One theme recurs: Many churches don’t know how to grieve miscarriage together. The sting of silence is surpassed only by harmful platitudes and pressure to get past the grief.

Allen highlights this problem from her own experience: “My husband and I walked through our losses in an environment that seemed to view sorrow as evidence of faithlessness and self-pity. Being downcast was often spoken of as if it were sinful,” she remembers. “Yet, Scripture never makes that case. My honest prayers of lament were smothered by an unbiblical model of what it looks like to suffer as a disciple of Jesus” (26). Allen shows us what it looks like to experience godly grief that recognizes legitimate sorrow without consuming us.

Gifts Gained

One danger of loss is that it can become our life, our full identity. All we are is the loss, without regard to who Christ is for us and what he’s doing through the pain. We can forget that with God’s favor, loss is gain.

Paul excelled at rejoicing in God’s sanctifying favor without diminishing the reality of ongoing pain, as when he wrote, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our bodies” (2 Cor. 4:8–10).

Paul describes their suffering in present tense because it’s ongoing. Yet God’s redemptive work is equally present and purposeful. Their bodies carry the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus might be seen.

Dare we apply this to miscarriage? Can a body carrying death be the context for delivering gospel grace? Allen says yes.

With a book title like Lost Gifts, we might expect an outline of losses. In a poignant twist, we find a table of contents doing the opposite. Each chapter is titled “The Gift of . . .”: “The Gift of Our Good Shepherd,” “The Gift of Loving Your Husband Through Loss,” “The Gift of Compassion and Comfort Toward Others.”

If miscarriage is a lost gift, it’s also a place where unexpected gifts are found. Allen proves this, chapter by chapter, as she explores the grief of miscarriage and the grace of the gospel without minimizing either.

Gifts of Grace

I know well the grief miscarriage brings. But I also know the grace of Jesus—who died for our sins and rose from the dead, promising to make all things new. With God’s favor, even the desert of miscarriage becomes a place where treasures of grace are found. Lost Gifts is a compact yet comprehensive treasure map penned by a woman who knows this terrain well.

With God’s favor, even the desert of miscarriage becomes a place where treasures of grace are found.

Although Brittany Lee Allen writes primarily to women who have experienced miscarriage, Lost Gifts will also comfort fathers and instruct caregivers. Yet it’d be a good resource for all Christians, whether they’ve experienced miscarriage or not. Miscarriage touches every family, neighborhood, workplace, and church. The command to love our neighbors as ourselves compels us to be ready.

It’s both theologically rich and eminently practical. Each chapter concludes with a psalm of lament, a guided prayer, and space to journal grief. Thus, Allen serves readers not only through her vulnerability but through instruction, inviting readers to Godward grief. Lost Gifts equips Christians to respond to miscarriage with Christlike empathy and gospel hope.