Yesterday marked the one-year-anniversary of my best friend’s baby going home to Jesus. Precious Hudson David was born at 28 weeks and lived for 36 hours. Today’s post is in honor of that precious curly-headed-baby boy and in honor of any parent who has experienced loss or grief over their children.
A Little Hope
Dan and Marilyn tried for years to have children. I think it was Danâ€™s idea first and Mimmy just went along, but as the years passed by it became her heartâ€™s desire as well.
My wife and I got pregnant just by thinking about it, so Iâ€™ll never really understand what it is like to watch leaves fall, snow come and go, and flowers bloom while dreams of starting a family lie stagnant and cold. And the seasons changed over and over, and over again while they waited.
And because I donâ€™t know that kind of longing, Iâ€™ll never totally understand the joy that they experienced when my niece was conceived.
Conventional wisdom says that you donâ€™t make any announcements until the second trimester, but this was news a lot of us had been waiting for. Dan and Mim wanted to share the journey with the whole family from start to finish, so we found out about the pregnancy right away. It was a season of hope.
One week passed. Gemma Hope was miscarried in a small washroom in their rented house. Iâ€™ve never been able to ask Dan exactly how one goes about recovering prayers, dreams, and hope from where they just donâ€™t belong. I guess whatâ€™s important is that you do it gently.
Sometimes when I wonder about heaven, I think of little Gemma Hope waiting there for her mom and dad. She has a few brothers now, and sheâ€™ll want to get to know them eventually as well (at least until they start teasing her). She may have to wait a little while yet, but who really knows?
When Jesus meets Dan and Mim on the other side of Sometime Soon, I wonder how Heâ€™ll arrange that first meeting between parents and child. However it happens, I doubt theyâ€™ll be standing there awed by harps, angel choirs or streets of gold. I suspect they wonâ€™t gaze slack-jawed at the architecture or peruse the ancient parchments containing the secrets of the universe. I think theyâ€™ll just want to hold Gemma.
She may be an infant, and will need a little extra care for a while. Maybe sheâ€™s a little girl and will clap for joy when mommy and daddy finally get Home. Perhaps sheâ€™s a lovely young lady with hints of her fatherâ€™s steadfastness combined with her motherâ€™s spunk.
I donâ€™t know these things, but there is one thing I do know: sheâ€™ll have outgrown that lovingly crafted coffin.