To My Boy in Heaven

He would have been twelve years old yesterday. But, this was not God's plan for him. Our little boy, Luke Joseph only lived for a day.

This is the letter his daddy wrote to him...

Dear Luke,

What can I say? You are my one and only little boy. I held you in my arms for such a very short time. Eight hours, that was all the time that God allowed us to have with you. But, let me assure you that they were some of the best hours of my life. It was pure joy for me to hold you and kiss your sweet little head, and place my finger in your tiny little hand.

It was simply pure joy to know you little one. When your little hand seemed to squeeze my finger and one of your little eyes opened to peek at me. To see you breathing much longer than the doctors said you would.

I’m sorry that I did not get to know you better in my life. I’m sorry that we didn’t get to do all the things that daddies and little boys get to do. I wanted so much to take you to the park and push you in the swing, teach you how to ride a bike, take you fishing, and play catch.

But, that was not in God’s plan. God’s plan was for you to stay with your mommy and me for just a short time, and then to go to heaven to be with Him.

God loves you very much and has a special purpose for you there. I think you are very happy there, too. There is no sickness, no pain, or cruelty up there like there is down here.

Heaven is a place filled with love, for God is love and you can trust Him to take care of you.

As for me, I’m happy that you’re with Him, but sad that you’re leaving without me. Your mommy and I miss you very much and will think about you every day. But, don’t worry, one day we’ll come to heaven to live with God, too, and we’ll be with each other again.

Remember that I love you very much and you will stay in my heart forever.

Love,

Daddy

Wishing Luke a happy twelth birthday in heaven. We are thankful for eternal life in Christ Jesus and long for the day when we can hold our sweet boy in our arms again.

 "And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

Revelation 21:3-5

When the Cold Winds Blow: Healing from Pregnancy and Infant Loss

When the autumn winds blow fresh and cool, the maple leaves ambling to the ground, a slow but pervasive sadness creeps up. It doesn’t take long for me to know why.

And in the midst of this ache, a little light trickles in.

An idea. A glimmering grace to hold onto. A comfort to ease the pain.

Gathering leaves, big and small, symmetrical or somewhat askew, I hold them to my heart.

With broken crayons, sheets of blank paper and children needing something to do, I demonstrate. Taking a single leaf, I cover it with paper and rub it over and over again with a red crayon.

As if by magic, the leaf appears. First the stem, the veins and the outline of the leaf’s three points.

My kids are in awe and my heart is at rest. 

To turn death into a learning experience, a thing to grow from, gives me renewed focus and grace...

To look to the One who comforts me and love on the ones I have here.

I have this little blue scrapbook. A book of remembrance. Of a time of waiting for a sweet little baby. A son. His prognosis was grave. I was his life support. When he was born, he would die. Back then, bilateral renal agenesis (BRA) had no treatment and still has no cure. I received the news the beginning of autumn.

December came and he was wrapped up warm and comfortable in my womb while I waited for his birth day. The day I’d have to say goodbye.

Another month before his due date, I spent half that windswept day on a playground with my two-year-old Bright Girl. Pushing her in the swing. Watching her joy as she raced around, her sneakers crunching on the fallen leaves. Not knowing it would be the day before my son’s birth day.

Giving birth to a child born without the capacity to live was incomprehensible. How can you prepare for it?

All I could do was breathe and pray.  

When trying to savor each moment, time slows down. It would be one of the longest days of my life. And, I held my little boy, my Luke, for as long as I could before he passed from here to heaven.

I left the hospital, with empty womb and empty arms.

Trying to find some sort of normalcy, when my strength returned, I took my toddler to the playground. As I pushed her in the swing, a shadow seemed to block the sun. It wasn’t a shadow others could see, but it was felt. And only by me.

I don’t remember how long the shadow lasted, but it came and went like the ebb and flow of the tides.

And it's been like that each and every autumn, when the cold winds begin to blow. For twelve years now. The shadow of grief comes. Sometimes for a day, sometimes a bit longer.

At this point, I don't know if I can call grief a friend, but I now see a pattern for when it settles in.

And, I don't mind it anymore.

Loving and losing someone hurts. The pain means they mattered. And, the latent grief that comes is a reminder to us to think of the ones we miss in heaven. The ones we're waiting to see again.

And when the shadow of grief seems to linger, just remember...

You will bloom again.

Like the sunflowers who turn to face the sun, may we turn to face our Savior and wait for His healing, comfort and grace.

A wise king once said,

“To every thing there is a season…a time to be born and a time to die...a time to weep and a time to laugh…” (Ecclesiastes 3:3-8)

And Jesus said, 

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted (Matthew 5:4).”

Death has not won the victory, Christ has. His love is eternal. Death couldn't stop Him. He lives on

 and by grace, our loved ones who are gone, live on.

Faith gives us hope.

Hope helps us bloom. To be open to joy.

Love is the source of that hope—the love of Christ, our gentle Savior who leads us on the path He has laid out for us. 

For some of us, it is the path of grieving in hope. The hope that brings whispers of a joy to come. On falling leaves and in fingers making impressions for little hearts to learn.

The One Place to Lay My Head

Throughout my life, I've felt this restlessness. Like there was nowhere for me to be still and lay the full weight of my being that I might experience full acceptance, comfort and relief.

Jesus felt the same way when He walked upon the earth. He was far from heaven where He dwelt in perfect unity with the Father. 

If you look at the four gospels (Matthew 26:36, Mark 1:35, Luke 9:18, and John 17:1), you'll see that Jesus spent a plenitude of time in prayer. Like He was getting some face-to-face time with His heavenly Father to remind Him who He was, why He was here and where He was going.

Who He Was:

Jesus knew He was the Son of God. As the Son, He has always existed in perfect unity with the Father and the Holy Spirit. 

He has no beginning and no end (Revelation 1:8). From the breath of His mouth the universe was made (Psalm 33:6). 
Even though He knew this about Himself, He didn't strut around demanding that all people bow at His feet and pay Him homage. No, He was completely humble. That is what makes Him so approachable. He fully accepts those who come to Him. 

He says to each one of us:

"Come to Me all you who labor and are heavy laden 

and I will give you rest..."

Matthew 11:28-30

Why He was here:

Jesus once commented to His disciples that He had "no place to lay His head (Luke 9:58)."

This of course was figurative. Meaning that He could never settle here. Not that He was restless, but He chose to come to this world for a reason. This crazy, messy, beautifully-broken place that was not His home. 

The King of the universe, who dwelt in inapproachable light in heaven came to this often dark world to complete a mission.

That mission was for us.

To save us.

It may not seem apparent at times, but we are drowning in sin. We only get to live one life and then the judgement (Hebrews 9:27). 

Do we really think we deserve to go to heaven, to be with God forever? To the place where His glory dwells? Where there is no sin?

Unless we are living in denial, none of us can claim to be without sin. And that means none of us deserves to be in the holy presence of God forever. Ultimately, that place will not be heaven. When Christ returns, He will renew the earth and make it His home. This is eternal life.

There is only one way for us to have eternal life.

And that is in the person of Jesus Christ (1 John 5:12).

He lived a perfect, sinless life, enduring poverty and suffering. Many became His followers, but by the ruling religious leaders, He was rejected and ultimately this lead to His death on the cross.

He died. God. Died. For us. Can you let that sink in. It is a profound life-changing truth.

But, death could not hold Him...

Where He was going:

Three days later, the stone was rolled away. And in the full glory of resurrection, He appeared to His disciples and to over 500 people (1 Cor. 15:6) before returning to heaven. His home. Where He is waiting for us.

For now, in prayer, He is the place where we can truly rest our head. 

He is for us and not against us (Rom. 8: 31-32) and accepts us with all our flaws. He comforts us in our afflictions and gives us relief from trying to live in this crazy world on our own. 

Because He lives, by faith, His Holy Spirit lives in us and gives us power, the same power that raised Jesus from the dead (Rom. 8:11) to overcome sin and become more and more like Him. 

And wherever He is, that is where I belong.

"But He was pierced for our sins, crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed."
Isaiah 53:5