While Barbara and her family were going through their incredible pain with their daughter and granddaughter I was at the beach alone with my daughter who is pregnant with her first child. The joy of being with my pregnant daughter was overshadowed by the pain of my dear friend and her daughter and family. My emotions were a jumbled mess. It was a constant ache all week. And it isn’t over. A deep loss like this doesn’t get fixed in three neat steps. The ache will be there for a long time. I can’t begin to feel what they are feeling. I can only hurt for them, enter into it with them, weep for them and pray for them.
You understand. You’ve been through a deep pain with someone, too. You have felt helpless. You have wished you could make things better. You’ve tried to make sense of it all and found few answers. And you may have wondered how can they carry on?
In the midst of their pain “carrying on” comes down to raw faith.
Today we flew home, Dennis and I. Part of me was ready to go home, but part of me wanted still to be near Rebecca and Jacob. I said as we boarded the plane that all I wanted to do when I got home was go to bed for about 24 hours. The long 12 day journey with Rebecca and Jacob was beginning to catch up with me.
When we arrived home and I did a quick scan of the house and yard to survey what had changed while we were gone, but it felt so empty, so like it was when we left.
But I was not like I was when I left.
I immediately got the box that held all the stuff that didn’t fit in my carryon bag and unloaded it to find the photos safely placed in the sturdy flat bottom of the box. I wanted my house touched by Molly. The page of Molly’s sunset photos, the black and whites of the memorial service and the pink card with her footprints are propped up on the kitchen counter. And I cried again. I missed Molly.
I don’t want to return to ‘normal’ life.
I tried to take a nap and eventually dozed off for a short while, but my mind was whirling with the memories, the songs, the verses, the hundreds of evidences of God’s mercy and love we saw in 12 days.
Yesterday Rebecca and I went to visit Molly’s grave. We cried a little, I did more than she, I think, but it was a sweet hour spent sitting on the grass talking about Molly’s precious life, about God’s purposes, our faith, and the amazing work of the Holy Spirit within us. It’s the kind of talk a parent dreams of having with their child, friend to friend, sister in Christ to sister in Christ, with no rush, no feelings of being preached to, just pondering the wonders of the Creator God. Only my vision of that conversation was never imagined at the side of a tiny grave freshly mounded with sod baking dry in the summer sun.
Our daughter Rebecca gave birth to her first child on June 13. On June 19, little Molly Ann went to be with Jesus. The following was written by Rebecca on Sunday, the day after laying Molly to rest.
“As many of you know, we have just walked through the toughest week of our lives. It has been an emotional roller coaster. From having contractions on the 12th, to giving birth in the early morning hours of the 13th, to hearing "It's a girl!" and being so excited, to not hearing her cries and trying not to worry, to seeing the doctors and nurses work on her little body to see what was wrong, to not hold her like I should have been soon after birth, to finding out she's in the NICU for a heart murmur, then having her be taken to Children's, to hearing the worst news a parent ever has to hear "she has irreversible brain damage", to having to make the hardest decision of our lives, to seeing her beautiful eyes, kissing her sweet skin, touching her little ears, holding her hands, and whispering in her ear, to holding her tight to our chests, to letting her go be with Jesus, and then holding her little body one last time before saying farewell.
Now that our children, Rebecca and Jacob, know that their baby’s death is imminent, they and we wait again. Sadly, Jesus probably won’t come back before she dies (as our sweet daughter-in-law said she prayed) and so they won’t be spared that tragic and difficult experience. Because there will be no escaping this, waiting is the only option.
And enjoying the moments. It’s interesting to see how focused these two are on maximizing every moment, capturing every detail, soaking in their baby’s presence: taking hundreds of photos, hours of video, capturing hand prints and foot prints, reading stories to her, saying prayers over her and more. This opportunity God has given us is a dark but holy pulling away from all of our hectic lives. He’s giving so many of us an experience of His presence when all the trivial and all the tinsel is suddenly so very unimportant. The glitter is gone. Only the two things that will last into eternity matter during this crisis: people and God’s Word.
Rebecca has asked all family members who are here at the hospital to write baby Molly a letter in the journal she kept during her pregnancy. Today, our son read his entry over the tiny bed where she lay. It was a powerful moment as he spoke to her of heaven and his hope of running with her someday. It will be an uncontainable joy to watch on That Day as these two who are handicapped on this earth will run together with abandon and delight.
We played “Untitled Hymn” by Chris Rice, a favorite song for so many of us, and wept together over the baby.
Then our other son sang one of our family’s favorite songs over her crib, “God is So Good”. Again we all sobbed. Pam and Bill, Jacob’s parents, read a story Pam wrote about their son who died as a baby. And we all cried again. We feel each time as if there can’t be any more tears, but they keep coming. And we have more days of agony ahead. Can these days be crossed and survived? It feels as if they cannot. But the hope of Christ, the strong presence of the Holy Spirit in our hearts, the power of the prayers of thousands and thousands are giving strength that could not have been imagined.
Today is Thursday and it is 40 weeks plus 7 days for my daughter and her first pregnancy. First babies are often late, but that is of little comfort to her. So she’s trying to fill her overdue days with getting her nails done, baking a cake for their small group meeting, going with a friend to the pool, anything to not think about how long this child is taking to make its entrance into the world.
And the rest of us are waiting too. Not like she is, of course, but it is interesting how I’ve not planned anything for the last week because I’ve planned to be with her. I’ve changed my plane tickets twice already and if she doesn’t deliver tomorrow I’ll have to change them again!
I’m packed for travel, she’s packed for the hospital. Everyone in the family jumps when they see her name on their cell phone when it rings.
As she and I have talked about waiting on baby I’ve been reminded about how we have to wait in life on so many things; waiting in check out lines, waiting in traffic, waiting for school to start, waiting for school to be out for the summer, waiting for graduations, waiting for marriage, waiting on a job, waiting to get pregnant, waiting on God’s timing in these and so many other situations in life. God is at work in the waiting for all of us just as He is at work with this little life that clearly has a few more hours of being knit together in its mother’s womb. God is at work in the hidden places. He is at work in the waiting.
It’s been a good reminder for me.
II. A New Kind Of Waiting
Great News!!! The baby was born early this morning and we rejoice at her arrival, little Miss Molly.
Bad News…something is wrong. she didn’t cry for four minutes and it appears she has a murmur and they don’t know what else. She was rushed to the neo-natal intensive care unit. It’s good that we have them but it’s bad when your baby has to go there.
And so now a new kind of waiting begins. It’s four in the afternoon on Friday and I’m on a plane bound for Denver. I can’t get there fast enough. And we don’t know much more than we did shortly after birth. Doctors have come and gone and the new parents who got no sleep the entire night before as they were in labor, now can’t sleep for concern for their precious baby. And they wait for news, any signs of hope in tone of voice or words of comfort and encouragement. And we, all the family and friends on our side and on his side, wait for news from this weary overwhelmed couple.
“Wait for the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord.” Ps. 27:14.
It is good to know that God knows. He has all the answers, knows all the plans, all the purposes and above all He always intends good for His children. That is our comfort and theirs as we all wait. To quote one of my favorite writers, Andre Seu, “It is a good thing to wait upon the Lord in a well-watered land. It is a holy thing to wait upon Him in a barren landscape.” God is near.
III. Waiting On Heaven
It is early Sunday morning and our daughter and her husband and Dennis and I have gotten the worst kind of news. Their new little daughter has multiple problems all from one malformation; an aneurysm in a vein in her brain. We spent most of Saturday in tears after the meeting with the team of doctors at Children’s who with much grace and tenderness and kindness delivered the prognosis.
It will be another difficult day as brothers and sisters and our son-in-law’s parents fly in. And there will be more of these days to follow.
The certainty of heaven is our rock. Knowing we will see her and each other again makes it bearable. Faith in the unchangeableness of God’s promise to never leave us or forsake us gives strength. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever. Nothing can separate us from His love. And one day there will be no more night, no more sorrow, no more tears, no more pain.
But for now we wait. We wait for heaven. In the midst of this great grief, I realized waiting for heaven is truly our daily assignment. I get so busy with the details of living that the focus on my destination becomes fuzzy. But now it is clearly in sight. The important is not blurred. What really matters is staring us in the face. And it is good because God is good.
So today we wait for more precious time with this baby and we wait for Heaven.
You’ve just gotten used to a somewhat clean house, much less trash to take out, a sparse refrigerator, and some peace and quiet. And then they come home! It might be for the summer or for a visit or yikes-even to move back in for a time! But whatever the event, that new life style you’d slowly adjusted to has just flown out the window!Now chaos reigns, cell phones which can’t be found are ringing with weird tunes, the front door is slamming at all hours and once again you lay awake late into the night wondering if they are safe, where they are, and when they’ll be home.
It seems like just yesterday you were mourning their leaving and now they are back and that serenity you’d barely grown accustomed to has vanished! Or perhaps the grandkids have arrived for a visit. And the house you just cleaned yesterday is a wreck today. That is me this week. Yesterday my house was clean. Today I’ve had 14 kids, my grandkids and friends (ages 10 to five months) racing throughout the house. There are cheerios stuck in the couch, lemonade sticking to the floor, muddy footprints across the kitchen floor, and a “pee puddle” on the living room floor.
Our youngest just completed her one year post-college internship. For months she’s been talking to us about where she will live and what she wants to do when she is on her own full time. We’ve listened, encouraged, coached, and given some advice when asked on resumes and interviews. For a while she vacillated as to where she would live: stay in Virginia or come back to Arkansas. All along we’ve told her we are for her, believe in her and will support her in whatever she chooses.
Last week she signed a lease with four other girls on a rental house. In Virginia.
When she called I told her I was glad for her and I was. Truly. It had become clear that she was probably staying so the announcement wasn’t really a surprise. But when I hung up the phone I had this sad realization that hung like a cloud over the rest of the day. She really wasn’t coming home. It was another empty nest moment: a further breaking away, another loss for me to absorb. With her name on the dotted line, she’s putting down roots on the east coast, a long sixteen hour drive from home.
Memorial Weekend, Dennis and I started cleaning our garage; actually, it’s a large storage shed. The garage was converted into a playroom equipped with a ping pong table and foosball machine for our growing clan of teenagers over fifteen years ago. Since we had to have a place for the lawn mower, bikes, and all the other garage items, we built a nice shed, which I determined would be called the cottage. I made it cute on the outside with some old windows, shutters and a window box. But the inside is pure garage. No paint, stuff stored in the rafters, under the stairs and in every corner, nearly to the ceiling in places. All the things we didn’t need or the kids didn’t want any more went out back to the cottage.
And now that the kids are gone it’s time to de-clutter. To simplify. To purge. To lighten the load on the floor boards lest the cottage cave in the middle!
Some of the decisions have been easy. Some junk is clearly junk and it went in the trash bag or directly to the fire pit where it was quickly consumed in the fire we had going. But some of it is not so easy.After digging through a stack of boxes and things, we came to a wooden box Dennis built at least twenty five years ago.
One of my very best friends lives in China. She, too, is an empty nester who courageously went with her husband to live and work in China as their youngest went off to college. They’ve been there eight years now.
Two weeks ago when the earthquake struck they were in Cheng Du visiting some American friends. They were in an apartment building when the earth began to shake and roll. My friend wrote in an email that it seemed to last forever as they tried to find safety in doorways and outside. For hours and hours they were detained from re-entering the building as were millions of others in that city of ten million.
In the days that followed they and the other Americans began to see what they could do to help. Here is what one man wrote after spending a day near the epicenter of the quake’s massive destruction.
“While we were talking to some of the now homeless Chinese an after-shock came. It was a strong jolt but very short. I was looking at Mr. X when the after-shock hit and he jumped back and had a look of terror on this face.
