This morning during church I started to realize one of the blessings of this process that we’re going through. We get to touch eternity, brush up against heaven, if only for a moment. I’ve never been a fan of those books that claim the writer has spent a period of time in heaven only to be brought back to earth (disclaimer: I have not read any of them, either). I’m not going to discount the person’s experience, but I think it would be incredibly cruel of God to take someone up to heaven and then yank them back to this life. I think He has provided through His Word the only glimpse of heaven that we need in this life.
But I have also realized that through our children, Travis and I have been given this opportunity to see the love of God in action, eternal action. When Jonah died, I finally fully realized (as much as my human mind can) the love God has for us in sending His Son to die. And now in Samantha, I’m beginning to realize what it took for God to watch His Son suffer for our sake. Yet even writing that feels blasphemous to me, because how can I begin to understand the mind of God?
When Jonah was stillborn, I didn’t want to hold him. The nurse thrust him into Travis’ arms which made it possible for me to hold his little body. I was never one to be desirous of having kids, but God thrust Samantha into our arms and I wanted her from the moment she was conceived. I’m the last person to get excited over babies and kids, but I love my daughter and I loved my son. I wouldn’t trade a second of either of their lives for anything. And while this whole ordeal is insanely trying and each day is difficult, I don’t want to fast-forward through it (most of the time). There are days when I feel like I may go out of my mind with the worrying and waiting. And I find myself fighting the resentment that I have spent the last year pressing pause on my life – with the aim of raising a child – only to continue to press pause on my life with the end being loss. I skipped a lot of things, spent a lot of time in the hospital, even missed out on developing relationships. I missed a lot this year, and I kept telling myself it was all worth it for having Samantha in my life. It’s still worth it, but I just hate knowing that after all of this is done, our lives won’t look much different from the outside than they did before. The only difference will be this aching hole in our hearts as we move back into our childless lives.
Knowing we have children waiting for us in heaven gives us a tiny picture of eternity. I am going to be pondering this for a while I think, because it’s something God is only beginning to reveal to me.
Beautiful post. Thank you.
bethany actually said:
Yes. YES. I’ve slowly come to realize over the years that pretty much every human relationship we have on earth can teach us something about God. Child-parent, marriage, friends, whatever. It’s not blasphemous. It’s exactly why God gives us these relationships, so we can learn a tiny bit about Him and His love.
I’m so sad you and Travis have to go through this earlier than most parents do, but I’m thankful you are finding bits of grace here.
debbie oatman said:
Your thoughts are so beautiful, so well put together, thank you for sharing. I can see the Holy Spirit working through you and Travis. What a blessing you and your family are.
God’s love for us. Occaisionally, we get a fleeting glimpse of how that kind of love feels. When we need it most, a glowing lifeline purposefully tossed into our darkness. The puzzle piece that was missing for what seems like an eternity. And then, the luminous chemicals fade and the cat knocks another fraction of jigsaw back into the hole of our darkness. But, even when we are blinded by the lack of light in our earthy existance, we are able to recall that we felt that warm, consuming, love. It’s only blasphemy if you don’t acknowledge this peace as a gift from God. And you have done that, beautifully, again and again.