My friend Susannah over at Color of Happiness was the bearer of sad news today. Her friends just lost one of their newborn twins, and the other baby is still fighting for his life.
Though I've never met this couple, I was overwhelmed by the enormity of their situation, characterized by a complete lack of control. What must it be like for new parents to experience elation when their children arrive, fear when they sicken, and grief when one dies -- all within a month?
The baby will never know his twin. He won't walk or talk or go to school. All the potential of a life fully lived is gone, because of rare genetics and our universe's strange mechanics.
One could say this little boy's life, though short, taught his parents the full depth and strength of their devotion to God, to each other, and to their children. From where I stand, it's a faint silver lining in a dark cloud.
Perhaps they'll recognize it one day. Perhaps they see it already. In either case, all they can do now is love, hold, pray. And this seems the hardest, heaviest part of all.
Susannah said something that struck me: "If I were in my friends' situation, I'd be asking God for whatever this is to just end so I at least know where I stand."
Indeed, what is still in store for these young parents? Where will they stand when this nightmare closes, hopefully with their other son recovered and healthy? Will it still be with God?
Prayer #52: Baby Steps
Whatever You want me to know, I will learn it.
Whatever You want me to endure, I will feel it.
Whatever You want me to recognize, I will see it.
Whatever You want me to experience, I will live it.
But promise me, Lord, that You'll give me the grace to take it one small piece at a time, so that the darkness of the universe does not swallow me, and the brilliance of Your love does not blind me.
And I promise that, in time, I will meet You.