I remember standing there, holding a little blue blanket – a blanket made by strangers for a time such as this. It was more beautiful than most of the baby blankets made, it was soft with little blue and white satin ribbon, the outside lined with white stitching and the inside filled with a precious baby blue yarn – small enough to wrap a newborn in.
Standing at his gravesite, it seemed like the world stood still for just a moment. I can remember every little detail. He would have been three days old when we buried him. Instead, his sweet little body lay so beautifully and peacefully in a tiny casket – lined with satin and lace, maybe two feet long and one foot wide. My milk came in that day and I had pain from having to wear a portable catheter because I could not urinate on my own. The reality of just having given birth coupled with the immense loss of my firstborn was setting in.
I don’t know how I did it, but I read a little poem – I can’t find that poem today, but remember the last line that said – “for everything that passes, something beautiful remains”.
It has been many years since that solemn August day. As the days and years passed, I learned to live without my son. And by God’s grace, mercy and love – I have seen so much beauty come from that sad time in my life. Women who had gone through the loss of a child came out of the woodwork and surrounded me with love. And I came to know a very special type of kindness – a kindness that puts everything else aside to just say, I am here for you. No matter what beliefs people have or what areas we disagree on, the loss of a child gives others compassion, empathy and love for that sweet Mama (and daddy).
Psalm 34:18 says – The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
The Lord promises to be our source of comfort, peace and hope. It does not mean we will not have heartache and trouble – it simply means HE IS THERE. I think it’s in our times of desperation, deep sadness and despair that we often cry out to God the most. And because of those times in our lives, we have a softer, more gentle heart for others who are hurting.
I used to wonder if I’d ever make it through such a dark time in my life, and yet, time and time again I have seen God’s great glory displayed through that pain. I now have four grown children, am a Nana to the most precious babies, and have watched as every area of sadness or hurting in my life has brought me closer to God. My pain has been used to love others, to pray with and for the hurting, and to show grace, compassion and mercy to those who need comfort. What a gift. As I recall the words of that poem, I can say without a doubt that, yes, something beautiful remains. Love you!
I remember standing there, holding a little blue blanket – a blanket made by strangers for a time such as this. It was more beautiful than most of the baby blankets made, it was soft with little blue and white satin ribbon, the outside lined with white stitching and the inside filled with a precious baby blue yarn – small enough to wrap a newborn in.
Standing at his gravesite, it seemed like the world stood still for just a moment. I can remember every little detail. He would have been three days old when we buried him. Instead, his sweet little body lay so beautifully and peacefully in a tiny casket – lined with satin and lace, maybe two feet long and one foot wide. My milk came in that day and I had pain from having to wear a portable catheter because I could not urinate on my own. The reality of just having given birth coupled with the immense loss of my firstborn was setting in.
I don’t know how I did it, but I read a little poem – I can’t find that poem today, but remember the last line that said – “for everything that passes, something beautiful remains”.
It has been many years since that solemn August day. As the days and years passed, I learned to live without my son. And by God’s grace, mercy and love – I have seen so much beauty come from that sad time in my life. Women who had gone through the loss of a child came out of the woodwork and surrounded me with love. And I came to know a very special type of kindness – a kindness that puts everything else aside to just say, I am here for you. No matter what beliefs people have or what areas we disagree on, the loss of a child gives others compassion, empathy and love for that sweet Mama (and daddy).
Psalm 34:18 says – The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
The Lord promises to be our source of comfort, peace and hope. It does not mean we will not have heartache and trouble – it simply means HE IS THERE. I think it’s in our times of desperation, deep sadness and despair that we often cry out to God the most. And because of those times in our lives, we have a softer, more gentle heart for others who are hurting.
I used to wonder if I’d ever make it through such a dark time in my life, and yet, time and time again I have seen God’s great glory displayed through that pain. I now have four grown children, am a Nana to the most precious babies, and have watched as every area of sadness or hurting in my life has brought me closer to God. My pain has been used to love others, to pray with and for the hurting, and to show grace, compassion and mercy to those who need comfort. What a gift. As I recall the words of that poem, I can say without a doubt that, yes, something beautiful remains. Love you!
