We are grieving the loss of a friend...though only 22 weeks old in his mommy's womb, we know him by name. My heart is mush and confused and yet there is an abundance of peace of what will come of such heartache. We enter despair knowing there is hope. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted (Matthew 5:4). I have watched this baby boys parents claim the truth and praise God through it all. Their faith and courage has spread like a wildfire. People are turning to their Maker for the first time. It is tempting and sometimes easier to ask, "Why, why does something like this have to happen? They are good people, ready to love this child abundantly!" Though I may never have the answer to the heart wrenching question, I know and have seen God's presence and hand through it all. He makes himself known through heartache and pain. He makes himself known even if we do not understand why. That night in the hospital, I pleaded with God like never before to bring life. And though it may not be through the lungs of a baby boy, life is sprouting through conversations, touched hearts, and relationships. Baby Moses, as hard as it is to even type your name, I am looking forward to meeting you in eternity. Your life was short here on earth and yet your influence is significant in the lives of many...including mine.
"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."
~Henri Nouwen
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"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."
~Henri Nouwen
