Today I had to write a card to a dear friend. The same card I've been writing every year for seven years now. In which I try to express my gratitude and heartbreak to those parents, who suffer a million times more heartbreak and a thousand times more gratitude. Impossible words. There are certain affairs of the heart that will never pour out in writing.
And this year it falls on Easter. The day sweet Caleb died, April 12. What a juxtaposition: the day Christ conquered the grave...conquered the grave...the day Caleb entered it, and through it, the doorway to the Savior's arms. Caleb was the last person, among many, who drew my husband to Christ. It was through the tiny example of 5-year-old faith, unwavering belief as he walked toward Jesus and away from his parents, that my husband finally understood the depth and breadth of grace. How am I to thank a grieving mother and father, arms still empty, for forever filling mine? For eternally giving me Aaron? Through their willing sacrifice, he was brought finally to salvation. When they laid their baby down on that altar, that funeral pyre, he looked on and saw the cross, beautifully and lovingly displayed.
I watched a hundred Marys as they walked their sons and daughters to that familiar doorstep. I stood by deathbeds and saw this passion played out, over and over again. What was a final knell for these mothers...a last touch...one more kiss...a precious child's body cooling under their caresses...that is what Christ conquered. Because of His sacrifice two thousand years ago, Caleb's mama and papa can look forward to a reunion someday in heaven.
Once again this year, I praise...through tears. I weep and worship. Remembering his hands, that gripped our hearts without thumbs, blue eyes that pierced us with their surprising joy, a tiny child who submitted so completely to parents and God that he laid still...stock still...under the most impossible physical conditions.
And I am once again led to deeper faith, taken by that tiny little hand and brought closer to the cross. Thank you, Caleb, for turning my eyes to Jesus in new ways each year as I remember your miraculously mature example of faith.
2 comments:
Caleb's careful evaluation and acceptance of me is one of the most profound blessings I have received in this life.
He was an amazing boy, Steve and Amy. Debra
Gen,
I just read your thoughts about Caleb to Amy because her computer modem is broken. You described him as only someone could that had been his nurse that loved him and cared for him during the most difficult time of his life. It made me cry with the truth of your words and the wonderful tribute to the faith of our small but mightly Caleb. He was designed for 5 1/2 years of life and he ran it full tilt with His eyes on Jesus until he ran into His arms. I pray that I will so live my life! Caleb's grandmother, Linda
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