It’s been about eight months since I last wrote–much has taken place in this time. When I look back at the last post I’d written in June of last year, I am particularly smitten by the remarks regarding the potter and the clay–how sometimes the potter has to crush the clay because of some flaw and rework it from scratch. Little did I know of the crushing that was about to take place.

I struggle to secure the right words to adequately express what I need to say–I typically resort to analogies and the like, but I’m at a significant loss this time. The unexpected loss of my sweet infant granddaughter has left an indelible mark on me, and I’m still wending my way along life’s path. As a parent, and specifically a mother, I have always strived to fix things in my child’s life. When fixing is not an option, I spiral into places that have no visible exit sign, and all I can do is fall down in expectant silence before God. 

It’s been about eight months since I last wrote–much has taken place in this time. When I look back at the last post I’d written in June of last year, I am particularly smitten by the remarks regarding the potter and the clay–how sometimes the potter has to crush the clay because of some flaw and rework it from scratch. Little did I know of the crushing that was about to take place.

When I look back over these last eight months, I see God’s transforming power revealed in my son’s life. I’ve prayed, somewhat hesitantly, over the years that He will do whatever He must to draw my child closer to Him. I think every parent who has prayed this prayer does so with reservation because we know that it may require circumstances that we don’t want to see in our children’s lives, but nevertheless are necessary to the revelation of God’s will. 

I’ve seen a miraculous alteration in my son since this ordeal last summer. He has chosen to embrace his faith rather than bitterness at the loss of his infant daughter. I can’t even type these words without choking back the tears. God has taken ahold of my son’s life in ways I couldn’t even have imagined. My heart has broken for his pain and his wife’s pain and all of the hopes and desires tied into the entrance of a newborn life into this world only to have it wrenched abruptly away. 

I held my sweet baby granddaughter only once, the night before she went into the arms of Jesus at just two weeks old. When I think about those precious moments, I can’t articulate the emotions that flood over my soul. I still keenly feel the pain, and I know my children must deal with it daily, and likely every moment of every day. There’s a powerlessness that overwhelms me, leaving no option but to continue to fall down at the feet of Jesus and ask Him to continue to carry them (and me) forward. 

They are now expecting another baby girl. I long to feel the exhilaration of expectancy and anticipation of last year at this time, but it’s tainted, of course. I can’t articulate an analogy to what I feel because there’s nothing parallel to which to compare these mixed emotions. I am resolved to embrace the excitement of a new life joining us once again, however, consciously choosing to be elated rather than wallowing in worry. I must accept that God’s love is constant regardless of the circumstances of this life, and observing how my son has so dramatically changed through this time fuels my faith to keep moving forward. So I’m continuing to write to my expected granddaughter; she will need to know about her family’s faith amidst the most devastating events in life. 

I’d left off at “N” in the children’s book of Bible verses. 1 Corinthians 15:20 says, “(Now) Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.” This verse expresses the basics of our faith–all of it depends on the fact that Christ rose from the dead. The second half of this verse refers to those who have already “fallen asleep.” Because God raised Jesus from the dead, He has paved the way for us to join Him in Heaven forever. I know I will see my precious Ariella again when I step over Heaven’s threshold one day, and I look forward with the greatest anticipation of meeting my next grandbaby in a few months.