An entry from Caleb's online progress journal dated Dec. 12, 2001 (from the hospital),
"Have you ever held a glass ornament so frail you thought just breathing on it might cause it to shatter? I put into words such feelings today while I pondered Caleb's life.
Isn't it interesting that we often feel a sense of security in the presence of health and vitality? The reality is that we really have no control over life at all! Caleb's life isn't any more uncertain than mine or that of our other children. They are all numbered according to His plan. Why does that scare me? And yet, it shouldn't. There is freedom there--"wide open spaces". And life is not a glass house about to crumble but, in Him, a firm and solid foundation. Pray that I would learn this heart lesson."
.................
(On the day I wrote this entry Caleb had had a "good" day. He felt some pain relief and was delighted about the Christmas season, at a visit with his toddling sisters and in his new red mittens, sweetly made by a favorite nurse.)
He met Jesus face to face, breathed celestial air, exactly four months later.
Eleven years and still, I feel his hands like imprints on my cheeks.
What I wrote then is as true today. I need not live in fear or guilt. I have wondered at times how I could mother our girls well in the midst of grief. Loss has instructed me in love but I don't always live out what I know. The comforting truth, however, is that real joy has never left us, friends. Joy and sorrow are nested together. Because our God Himself has never left us, we live. We more than survive because our daily lives, our relationships, our work, these are sacred gifts. What's more, we celebrate because our grief informs our hearts that we await the wedding feast. That the best, the superlative BEST (for all words fail here) is yet to come...
5 comments:
Thanks for sharing part of your story and the depth that you have in joy and the beautiful reminder of where our hope is set! oh the joy of Jesus!
Love,
Adela
Amy, I love this beautifully written post. I never knew Caleb, but think of him and remember the stories you and Emily have told me over the years. Thank you for sharing. 11 years can go by in the blink of an eye depending on what you are talking about.
superlative BEST. indeed. thanks for sharing your boy with us.
I am struck by the very powerful witness of redemption in your life, Amy. I hardly know your story or your life at all, yet just looking through these pictures, reading these few words I see such hopeful evidence of a God who doesn't leave us in grief, but tenderly brings us along. Thank you for beginning the telling of this story. It is a sacred thing.
Tonia, thank you for your presence here. I would hug you big if you were standing in front of me, despite the fact that we've yet to meet. I'm grateful to hear that the Lord's kindness is evident in our lives, through joy and sorrow for that is my hope.
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