My heart is heavy. It breaks for all of the mothers who have loved and lost a child. I cannot begin to imagine the grief, solitude and loss they feel having lost part of their essence, of the life they brought into this world and cherished every minute of every day. A friend lost an unborn child this past year; another her adopted child when the birth mother changed her mind. In the past month, I know personally of a mother who lost her two-year old son and just this week, a fifth grade classmate of Henry's passed away.
"Mom, she was special. She wasn't supposed to live beyond one year old," he said.
So many questions of why?! How do we explain loss? Rather, how does someone explain it if they don't BELIEVE in God? Surely the anger and hate stage of loss is easier to get through if you have someone to blame. Often times we point that blame to God. Someone has to be at fault, right? But if you BELIEVE, you know that there is a reason a child is called home to the Kingdom of God. And that one day you will be reunited.
I didn't experience loss until I was an adult ~ and the first one to pass through the gates to Heaven was my 88 year-old grandfather. There were funerals before that one when I was much younger, but I always looked at them as a time to get to see distant cousins, eat and run around like crazy kids. Even before I understood the weight of death's toll, I knew that family and friends gathered to celebrate life. The life and blessing that was the person on earth. And their spirit lived on.
Now I find myself, as a mother of young boys, trying to explain that life does goes on... for us. And that we can be there in prayer for those who have lost someone dear to them. We may not have the answers to questions asked. With open arms we envelop those who have loved and lost. With closed hands, we pray for them. Our faith keeps us strong. We are not alone.
But Jesus called them to him, saying, "Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." Mark 10:14