Of Loss
I just snuck into Cooper’s room. The quilt had fallen off his bed and he was sound asleep under the sheet. It was a little chilly in there so I picked up the quilt and tucked him back in. He didn’t move. He’s always been a very heavy sleeper. I tucked his Mickey in beside him because, hey, Mickey is a big part of our family. I paused to look at how beautiful he is and I thanked God for him. He’s healthy. He’s happy. He’s smart. He’s sweet. He’s truly beautiful.
Then I snuck into the nursery. Aiden was snuggled up too tightly underneath his crib quilt so I loosened him up a bit. He twitched. He’s never been a very deep sleeper. He’s the one where you better know where every creaky plank in the hardwood is. I laid my hand on his cheek for a minute and thanked God for him. The little jerk batted at me in his sleep. Never wake a sleeping baby, they say. I’m so thankful again. He’s happy. He’s healthy. He’s a snuggler. He picks up on everything. He’s a gorgeous little boy.
I’m glad I took an extra minute tonight. I needed to. My pastormom heart hurts tonight because I know what it means to love these little beings I made, so deeply that without question or hesitation, I’d die for them. I only hope that I never have to. I want to see them grow into amazing, compassionate, world-changers. I need to see that. I need to see the fruit that comes from all these seeds I’m planting and cultivating. I think that’s the reward moms get for all the sleepless nights — not the ones involving newborn hungry cries and late-night fever-spikes — the sleepless nights where we lay in bed worrying if they’re growing ok, if they’re doing everything they’re supposed to be doing at their age, and then……
Then there are those worries that after all we’ve done, after all the sleepless nights, that something will happen to them and all those dreams we’ve had for them since before they were conceived, will die.
Our community lost a beautiful young girl today in a terrible way. It’s not going to be something that’s easy to talk about. Everyone will have different feelings about what’s happened and different emotional responses. Some will have very definite theological views about it all. Some will simply hurt — well, not-so-simply. Her classmates won’t be equipped to identify their feelings or handle them. This will be hard. Losing this beautiful teenager has wounded this community.
And yet all I can think of is her mother. I think I know all I would feel; I just simply cannot imagine the depth. I’ve said it several times today — there simply aren’t words. And yet we’re conditioned to find them. We’re not conditioned to just exist in silence or, well, listen actively. We have to say something but here, the words just do not come because the truth is and will always remain that no parent should ever have to bury their child. We give them life. We’re there for their first breaths to never have to bare the weight of their last ones. We eagerly wait to see and celebrate the fruits of our labors and that is the gift, I think, of motherhood.
Thus, I cannot imagine that being taken from me and I grieve at the mere thought of it. And then there is a theological truth. In grief we are carried. Very really, blessed are those who mourn. In all my mourning I have never felt alone. Through the tears I’ve cried in my short life, which actually amounts to many, I have never felt alone. I have never felt separated from the love of God. I never had a feeling of abandonment even in the darkest of nights and oh have there been dark nights.
Where I cannot imagine the enormity of this loss, I find a spark of hope buried in there. Remember? Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil FOR THOU ART WITH ME. And I guess that’s my prayer tonight. As this community hurts and mourns alongside this grieving family, I pray that somewhere in the mix, that by the grace of God this family, these friends, and the community that expands beyond the realm of those we know, might still catch a glimpse of God’s presence with them and that it is sustaining.
Squeeze your kiddos one last time tonight. Tuck them in even if they’re 17. Thank God for them for they are the most amazing gift we can ever be given.
Pray for this family — their insurmountable pain — not only in the days and weeks to come but in the years to come. Milestones like prom and graduation and college…..There are going to be many painful days ahead. Oh but for a peace that surpasses all understanding!
Remember this community and its students as well. There are many questions that will be asked and many that will go unanswered. The prayer remains the same, then. Oh but for a peace that surpasses all understanding.
Goodnight, friends.
