Crack in the Door

David’s first birthday is tomorrow. There are so many directions to take that sentence.

It really does feel like I held him in my arms yesterday. And at the same time that so much life has happened in the past year. I will never again get to see or touch or hear or smell my baby this side of heaven.

There are so many, many things I will never be able to do as David’s mama. It started with not being able to take him home from the hospital. Now I’m letting go of each baby milestone we did not experience this year. There are no first steps, no first words, no first birthday party to plan and no cake to bake. And my heart is broken. Each milestone that does not happen, each family event he does not share, is another loss, another place I have to let go of my son.

The memories of his kicks, the brief moments I held him, the joy his siblings found in him, they have to be enough. The time of his birth and death when the veil between heaven and earth was so thin. The moments when we worship and I remember that David is joined with us, worshiping in heaven. Even the quiet times, reading on the couch with the Gent after the children are asleep, when for a brief window in time all seems right with the world. These are the “crack in the door” moments—when I see that glimpse into eternity, redemption, wholeness. These little moments on earth that let us see that heaven is real and that heaven is coming. The light from that little crack floods this whole dark world and gives us strength and encouragement to go on.

Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.