July 27, 2012
"On the seventh day God had finished His work of creation, so He rested from all His work." Genesis 2:2
Today marks the seventh anniversary of the birth of our identical-twin daughters. Seven years ago today we received the unexpected news that our first and second child were gravely ill inside my womb. Seven years ago today doctors delivered our two babies and whisked them off to neonatal intensive care before we ever had the chance to hug them, kiss them or hold them. Seven years ago today
doctors diagnosed one of our twins with a Grade IV brain hemorrhage, and
told us that our daughter stood little chance for survival. Today marks the beginning of a string of events that would eventually lead to one of the most difficult experiences of my life.
While we REJOICE over the life of our surviving twin daughter our twins' birthday normally proves a difficult day for me to process. One child to celebrate; one child to mourn. It seems unfair. I despise death. I ache to hold two babies in my arms at once. The desires of my flesh quench the Spirit within.
But this year I noticed something different.
Seven represents the number of perfection and completion. God created the world in six days, and on the seventh He rested (Genesis 2:2). David was Jesse's seventh son (1 Chronicles 2:15). Jesus fed 5,000 men plus women and children with seven loaves of bread. When the crowed finished eating the disciples collected seven baskets of leftover food (Matthew 15:34-37). In the book of Revelation John writes a letter to the seven churches in the province of Asia (Revelation 1:4). Many claim seven as God's favorite number.
Seven years ago God used the death of our child to redirect the course of my life. While I sometimes failed to see the beauty of the path on which I traveled, seven years later I realize that He truly works all things for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28). In the seven years since the death of our child God has allowed me the privilege of sharing the hope of Christ with others--when I often feel unworthy of even mentioning His name. Seven years later I find myself having just returned from serving the Lord in two different countries. Seven years after the premature birth of our twin daughters my life feels more full and rich than I ever dreamed possible. Though I once felt incomplete without my child, seven years later I realize that my completeness comes from Christ and in living the life He intended for us to live.
The mama in me misses our daughter. But the child of God in me rejoices daily in His presence. What normally proves to be a difficult month faded to a few difficult moments yesterday afternoon. Because
I miss our daughter less? No. Because the hurt fades? Not necessarily.
Because time heals wounds? Not ever. Because the grace of God rescued
me? Absolutely!
I realize the depth to which a parent can plummet following the loss of a child--indeed I've experienced the hopelessness, and would feel blinded by despair now except that I asked God to show me the way out of my pain. And once I asked, "He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand." (Psalm 40:2)
Happy 7th Birthday my darlings.
Showing posts with label Grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grief. Show all posts
Friday, July 27, 2012
Thursday, December 22, 2011
A Glimpse Into a Mother's Heart
December 22, 2011
"But Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often." Luke 2:19
Earlier this week I tagged along with my husband as he traveled to Dallas for a business trip. Back-to-back meetings for my husband left me free to roam our old stomping grounds. My first stop? The cemetery--to pay our daughter a Christmas visit.
On account of our relocation to Central Texas, nearly two years have passed since I last visited her. I arrived to the cemetery just after eight o'clock in the morning. Just me. No one else. No bereaved family members or friends visiting loved ones. Just an opportunity for some quality mother/daughter time.
I realize my daughter isn't really there. My faith allows me to rest knowing that her spirit, her soul, the part of her which God made to last for eternity is alive and very well in Heaven. The cemetery is simply the place I go to visit the most tangible memory of my daughter.
"Your flowers look weathered," I tell her. "I'll buy a replacement and return in a bit." As a mother, the chance to care for my child, to do something for her brought my heart tremendous joy.
Amidst visits with old friends and neighbors throughout the day I eventually made it to the store and returned to the cemetery with flowers--and a full heart--in hand.
"I'm back," I said to her. I placed the new flowers in her vase and pulled out a small wind-chime I purchased years ago and hung it on one of the stems. Sweet music chimed in the gentle breeze. Resting my hand on the ground one last time I whispered my goodbyes.
I hate that the body of one of my children resides in a cemetery. Driving down the dirt road which leads to my daughter's grave site fills my mind with wonderment and disbelief. But to visit my daughter at Christmas time is a gift I'll treasure this year. A simple gift. Just a mama caring for her child the best she knows how.
Merry Christmas my sweet one. May you rest in His arms tonight.
"But Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often." Luke 2:19
Earlier this week I tagged along with my husband as he traveled to Dallas for a business trip. Back-to-back meetings for my husband left me free to roam our old stomping grounds. My first stop? The cemetery--to pay our daughter a Christmas visit.
On account of our relocation to Central Texas, nearly two years have passed since I last visited her. I arrived to the cemetery just after eight o'clock in the morning. Just me. No one else. No bereaved family members or friends visiting loved ones. Just an opportunity for some quality mother/daughter time.
I realize my daughter isn't really there. My faith allows me to rest knowing that her spirit, her soul, the part of her which God made to last for eternity is alive and very well in Heaven. The cemetery is simply the place I go to visit the most tangible memory of my daughter.
"Your flowers look weathered," I tell her. "I'll buy a replacement and return in a bit." As a mother, the chance to care for my child, to do something for her brought my heart tremendous joy.
Amidst visits with old friends and neighbors throughout the day I eventually made it to the store and returned to the cemetery with flowers--and a full heart--in hand.
"I'm back," I said to her. I placed the new flowers in her vase and pulled out a small wind-chime I purchased years ago and hung it on one of the stems. Sweet music chimed in the gentle breeze. Resting my hand on the ground one last time I whispered my goodbyes.
I hate that the body of one of my children resides in a cemetery. Driving down the dirt road which leads to my daughter's grave site fills my mind with wonderment and disbelief. But to visit my daughter at Christmas time is a gift I'll treasure this year. A simple gift. Just a mama caring for her child the best she knows how.
Merry Christmas my sweet one. May you rest in His arms tonight.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Why is Death so Hard?
November 14, 2011
"He has also set eternity in the hearts of men." Ecclesiastes 3:11
Why is death so hard to embrace? I once heard a trained counselor say that it takes six to nine months--sometimes longer--for the heart to accept what the mind already knows.
My beloved father-in-law passed away unexpectedly in his sleep this past Wednesday. I loved him like my own dad. We carried him to his final resting place this past weekend. Yet the death of my father-in-law still seems so foreign, so surreal, so . . . wrong.
Though our minds recognize the finality of death our hearts long for something more. God made us in His image (Genesis 1:27) and set eternity in our hearts (Ecclesiastes 3:11). Death was not part of God's design. Death entered the world on account of one--the thief who came to steal, kill and destroy.
The Good News?
Greater is He who is in us than he who is in the world (1 John 4:4). Jesus came that we may have life and have it abundantly (John 10:10). Jesus overcame death so that through Him we might overcome death too. Not might as in maybe. Might as in the MIGHTy power of Christ which works in us and through us as believers to present us before God as righteous (Romans 3:24).
Because of Jesus we need not grieve the loss of a loved one as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Though our physical bodies pass away, those who have trusted Christ--not good deeds or family heritage but those who have trusted Christ--to bring them into a right-standing before God will live for eternity.
Eternity. He set our hearts on it for a reason. We were made for eternity.
Have you made the choice? Have you trusted Christ to cover your sin? I praise my Father in Heaven that my father-in-law did . . . just three short months ago. My father-in-law's death reminds me of just one thing: our time here is short; our days, numbered. We must, MUST reconcile things with our maker. One day it will be too late. But it's never too soon.
The Bible says that none are righteous (Romans 3:10). All have sinned and fallen short of God's glorious standard (Romans 3:23). The penalty for sin is death (Romans 6:23). But God so loved the world that He gave is only Son to die FOR us. That whosoever should believe in His Son should not perish but have everlasting life (John 3:16).
One day the Lord Himself will come down from Heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God (1 Thessalonians 4:16). Until our time comes, because of his profession of faith in Christ, I know my father-in-law awaits us in Heaven with a grandbaby in each arm.
Pawpaw, you loved me as your own. As a wife to your son, a mother to your grandchildren, and a teacher to those who composed your crown, you were a continuous source of love, encouragement and support. You are greatly loved and will be missed tremendously.
In Loving Memory of RHH, 8/7/47-11/9/11
"He has also set eternity in the hearts of men." Ecclesiastes 3:11
Why is death so hard to embrace? I once heard a trained counselor say that it takes six to nine months--sometimes longer--for the heart to accept what the mind already knows.
My beloved father-in-law passed away unexpectedly in his sleep this past Wednesday. I loved him like my own dad. We carried him to his final resting place this past weekend. Yet the death of my father-in-law still seems so foreign, so surreal, so . . . wrong.
Though our minds recognize the finality of death our hearts long for something more. God made us in His image (Genesis 1:27) and set eternity in our hearts (Ecclesiastes 3:11). Death was not part of God's design. Death entered the world on account of one--the thief who came to steal, kill and destroy.
The Good News?
Greater is He who is in us than he who is in the world (1 John 4:4). Jesus came that we may have life and have it abundantly (John 10:10). Jesus overcame death so that through Him we might overcome death too. Not might as in maybe. Might as in the MIGHTy power of Christ which works in us and through us as believers to present us before God as righteous (Romans 3:24).
Because of Jesus we need not grieve the loss of a loved one as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Though our physical bodies pass away, those who have trusted Christ--not good deeds or family heritage but those who have trusted Christ--to bring them into a right-standing before God will live for eternity.
Eternity. He set our hearts on it for a reason. We were made for eternity.
Have you made the choice? Have you trusted Christ to cover your sin? I praise my Father in Heaven that my father-in-law did . . . just three short months ago. My father-in-law's death reminds me of just one thing: our time here is short; our days, numbered. We must, MUST reconcile things with our maker. One day it will be too late. But it's never too soon.
The Bible says that none are righteous (Romans 3:10). All have sinned and fallen short of God's glorious standard (Romans 3:23). The penalty for sin is death (Romans 6:23). But God so loved the world that He gave is only Son to die FOR us. That whosoever should believe in His Son should not perish but have everlasting life (John 3:16).
One day the Lord Himself will come down from Heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God (1 Thessalonians 4:16). Until our time comes, because of his profession of faith in Christ, I know my father-in-law awaits us in Heaven with a grandbaby in each arm.
Pawpaw, you loved me as your own. As a wife to your son, a mother to your grandchildren, and a teacher to those who composed your crown, you were a continuous source of love, encouragement and support. You are greatly loved and will be missed tremendously.
In Loving Memory of RHH, 8/7/47-11/9/11
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