David's Third Heaven Birthday

Three years ago today our son David was born. He slipped from life in the womb to life in heaven. He never took a breath and I never looked into his eyes. And until the resurrection, the anguish of that day will never pass. I haven't forgotten a moment of his pregnancy, delivery, our time together in the hospital, his burial. Those memories are so very vivid. I have come to the end of my questions, only to start over again. 

A few months ago, our pastor said that we can keep searching for answers to our grief and never find an answer that will satisfy. And then all we can do is rest in the truth that our God is sovereign and He loves us. That statement resonated with me. 

During our Covid-19 quarantine, I've been reading Elizabeth Goudge. In her novel The Bird in the Tree, an elderly woman advising her daughter-in-law says, "Life is a rather unhappy affair, dear . . . And it's just as well to face the fact. It's essentially sad, woven of grey stuff; yet embroidered with such bright flowers." Life in this broken world is inherently sad, because all is not as it should be. We are living in the absence of shalom. Yet in God's grace, there are bright flowers along our journey. David's life was grey and bright, all at once. 

So today we will take flowers and a balloon to David's grave, and eat doughnuts in the cemetery. We'll take a family hike and look through pictures and remember together.