Broken Hearts

I want you to hear a sweet song. If you can, go to http://www.orear.com/ashley/funeral/preciouschild.ram and listen to this song.


Better to go to the house of mourning
Than to go to the house of feasting,
For that is the end of all men;
And the living will take it to heart.
Ecclesiastes 7:2

We spent today in the house of mourning. It can all change so quickly. One day, you are feasting, and the next, tragedy strikes. Last weekend, as we went through the rituals of celebrating at least 5 family birthdays, we got a phone call that one of Tim's co-workers was at the hospital with his wife. She had gone there, being in the last part of her pregnancy. Something went wrong...the baby was on life support...then, as quickly as he had come, he was gone. His dad held him as he passed from this life to the next.

Cage Thomas came into the world on the same day as my little boy had, some 12 years ago. Today, his parents laid him to rest. I don't think there are many things in this life harder than losing a child. It never seems to be easy to lose anyone, in my experience, with the possible exception of mean or evil people. However, it is especially painful to lose a child. I've lost two; I know whereof I speak.

I'll never forget when I lost my first. It was 1985. It was my first pregnancy. Something went wrong, and it was weeks before we knew if the baby was alive or gone for sure. First babies are so special for the new emotions they elicit in a parent. I felt like I was going to die myself. I was filled with a combination of intense sorrow for the one I lost as well as great fright that I might never hold a child of my own in my arms.

The birth of three subsequent sons comforted my soul for a time and certainly answered my prayers. Just when I thought my childbearing was over, divorce and remarriage gave me the renewed possibility of bringing another life into the world for the dear man I married who so wanted a child of his own. On his birthday, in the first year of our marriage, I delivered the happy news that he was to be a father! Less than a month later, we proudly entered the ultrasound room for the usual tests, only to come away with the devastating news that a little heart was no longer beating.

I never held either one of my children. It did not go that far for me; yet, I know the pain we and our families felt. That is why today, the tears flowed freely as raw emotion once again rose to the surface of my soul. One little white box, barely larger than a shoebox, contained the son of our friends. I was humbled by the experience of sharing what has to be one of life's blackest days with this family and what has come to be a small family of people who share the same work address.

It is something you never want to experience. It is something you may experience, and then again, you may be blessed and never have to lose a child. The thing some of us had in common today was that we are all the parents of children whose souls now reside in a place of peace and safety and rest, until that ultimate place of eternal bliss, heaven, is finished being prepared by our Lord and Saviour.

I hang on to Jesus' promise of John 14 (my favorite Bible verse) which says:

Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.

This verse has comforted me and sustained me through a variety of losses in my life, and I hope that Mike and Jennifer will draw on the same Source of comfort in this very difficult time. Our hearts are broken for them and with them, but time will heal, and God will comfort us all in our individual trials and our days of loss and sadness. I am sure they whisper to little Cage Thomas tonight the same words that we so often inwardly voice to our children who wait on the other side...."Save me a place, sweet babe...."