Job 1:21 – “The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised.”
My parents left for the hospital to reserve a room for when the baby was born. They left my siblings and me to rake the yard. It was a warm day and raking took a while to get done. I went into the kitchen to get water to quench my thirst. I felt nervous walking near the clock. Why aren’t they here yet? I thought. What is taking them so long? I became more worried when they still didn’t come.
Suddenly I had a disturbing thought.. This baby is dead. A few years ago we lost a girl, Lindsey. It could happen again. I was daunted. I didn’t know if it was true, but something inside me tried to prepare me for what was coming.
When they arrived home, I watched them closely, watching for any sign of tears or sadness. They didn’t look as happy as usual.
When we all met in the living room and Dad was about to speak, I dreaded the words he might say. Don’t say it. I already know. I wanted to run. But I couldn’t. Dad told us exactly what I didn’t want to hear and it didn’t help to have guessed earlier. It made it worse. I anticipated it longer than I needed too.
When I lost my little sister I was younger and didn’t realize what was happening. This time I knew well. Tears flowed freely down my face.
Mom and Dad went to the hospital to have my little brother, Thomas. We didn’t get to see him until the next day. At church that Sunday, I wasn’t eager to talk about it to anyone or go to the hospital after. I tried to hide my fear of going to see him, but I had to go anyway.
When we walked in, I looked at the pale, lifeless baby in my Dad’s arms, my brother. I wanted to run, but I wanted to stay forever. I wanted to kiss him and tell him I loved him.
I would never see him open his eyes. I would never see him smile. I would never hear his cry or his first words. I would never get to hold his hand to help him take his first step. I would never feed him. I would never watch him learn how to ride a bike or play a sport. I would never hear him sing. I would never get to teach him about Jesus. I would never hear him say ‘I love you.’ I kissed him for the last time. Good bye, Thomas.
Why did the Lord take away something we really wanted? Why did he take another baby away? Why was it us?
“You give and take away. My heart will choose to say, ‘Lord, blessed be Your name'.”
[.I wrote this as an article a few years ago.]
1 messages:
Oh Leslie. I remember well the day your dad called to tell us. Some days (like on his birthday) I look back in my journal from that day. Right after your dad called I ran upstairs and cried. I wrote in my journal. The words are almost impossible to read because my hand was shaking so much. I love you all dearly.
Elizabeth
Post a Comment