Thirteen Birthdays in Heaven...and Thirteen Years of Impacting this Earth

Today our Thomas would have been thirteen years old. And, if all of our children were here with us, we would have four teenagers in this tiny house. Four teenagers and one middle school boy. Hopefully we would have added a second bathroom by now!!

I wonder sometimes about birthdays in heaven. Certainly there must be some significance to the day God chose for us to be born on this earth. Everything He does has multi-faceted meaning after all. And the longer I walk with Him, the more evident it is that nothing in this life is an accident.

For You formed my inward parts;
You covered me in my mother’s womb.
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Marvelous are Your works,
And that my soul knows very well.
My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.

Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.
And in Your book they all were written,
The days fashioned for me,
When as yet there were none of them.         
How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God!
How great is the sum of them!
If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand;
When I awake, I am still with You. 

Psalm 139:13-18

I am awake right now, in the wee hours of the morning, full of thoughts of God's ways....and He is with me. Amazing, isn't it...that the days are fashioned for us, written in His book "when as yet there were none of them". Even before we breathe our first breath...and even if we never take a breath on this earth, He knits us together in our mother's womb. He thinks thoughts of us, before we are even a thought in our parents' minds. He plans the day we will be born, so it must be significant. And, it is significant...even if our time here is brief. Every life has the capacity to greatly impact this world, and He thinks the thoughts that outnumber the grains of sand about every single one of those lives.

It was no accident the day our Thomas was born, nor any of our other children. Our birthdays were planned, just one among many of the days fashioned for us, written in His book. So, I wonder if they celebrate the day that Thomas arrived on Earth...and the day he began his life in Heaven. And, I wonder if he knows that the nine months he spent growing in my womb and the six hours he spent breathing life on this earth have impacted hundreds and maybe even thousands of others. I am certain he earned the coveted "Well done, my good and faithful servant" the day he was carried home to heaven. For his part of the story I have the privilege of sharing time and time again remains the most of Jesus I have to give. My time with Thomas as he went from my arms to the arms of Jesus is the picture of redeeming, sufficient grace. Joy in place of sorrow...peace instead of fear. Jesus keeping His promise that He will never leave nor forsake us. Only He could give a mother joy as she sang to her baby boy on his way to heaven.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of sharing our testimony and the story of SGM with the Rotary Club in Wauseon, Ohio. Michael Vollmer's grandpa, Doug, invited me to share with the group. Every time I speak, the focus is a bit different. For instance, at hospitals I focus on the ways that caregivers can offer compassion and opportunities to form a lasting tangible memory of their brief time with their babies. When I'm sharing with women's groups, I can speak to the mother's heart of the matter. When sharing with churches, I delve deeper into the spiritual aspects of our journey...the nitty gritty of Jesus carrying us through that time and finding hope in His word. But every time I get to the part about Thomas, regardless of the audience, I cannot skip over the moment of grace as I sang to him while Jesus filled the room with peace and joy as He carried my sweet boy home. It is the moment I knew He was real...not just hoped, not just believed without seeing...but knew from the depths of my soul...knew from experience that Jesus is Who He says He is.

Even if I try, I cannot skip over it. Yesterday was the first time I stood before an audience of businessmen...and a few businesswomen. But, mostly men. This is not an audience I'm familiar with. And, I was uncertain how comfortable they would be listening to our story of babies dying and Jesus carrying us through. Prior to the meeting, I thought perhaps I would just share the details of Sufficient Grace and the services we provide for grieving families. After all, these are business people and will be interested in the business aspect of what we do. I prayed, unsure of exactly what should be shared until the day I stepped inside the room.

I heard them opening their meeting in prayer as I entered, which set my mind at ease. I looked around the room, still thinking that surely I wasn't supposed to tell them our story. Just stick to the bare minimum information.They are busy people, hosting this meeting on their lunch break with limited time. But, when I stood to speak, it was immediately pressed on my heart to share the story. I'm just the vessel, so I followed His prompting, as I looked into the faces of mostly business men. I expected to see some shifting away uncomfortably or not meeting my eyes. I've stood before many different audiences, and have learned to read when my words are being received or when they are making others uncomfortable. And, I've occasionally watched  even seasoned nurses shift in their seats and look at the floor. But, this audience did not look away. In fact, even with their busy schedules, they focused intently on the message, many nodding and engaged, connecting with their expressions.

When I came to the part about Thomas, I shared as always. There was also a bit of time to tell about SGM, but we needed to wrap up quickly so the club members could return to work. I knew it was not the most polished delivery I had given, but I could sense that it didn't matter. I was just the vessel. The message was well-received and many shook my hand and took pamphlets as they left. I walked to my car, breathing in the beautiful day and shaking my head in awe of God and His ways. In awe of the day He had fashioned for me, and for our children, and for the lovely people who took the time to hear our message of hope. In awe of the honor bestowed on me...that I was chosen to be the mother of all of my children...in awe that I am their mother and His daughter.

The idea that babies die isn't an easy one to hear, and most people don't want to think about it. Our story isn't an easy story to listen to. Especially in the midst of a busy day. Especially for a group of men of various ages...some fathers and grandfathers. I thought maybe I should skim over the tough parts. But, God knew what was needed. He knows that if I just share about SGM and what we offer, it sounds like a "nice thing to do", but there isn't a depth or connection. People need to hear what we walked through, and how God carried us...they need to know our children and the story God has woven into our lives. They need to see the hope, to connect with our purpose. Knowing why we do what we do matters much more than the actual "what we do". It's the passion that stirs our hearts, and it's the connection that makes others want to join in supporting our efforts.

Every time I have an opportunity to share, there is an opportunity for that connection with another soul. An opportunity to offer comfort and hope for someone else walking through a trial.

Because Thomas lived, there is an opportunity to share the most of Jesus I have to give.

Happy Thirteen Years in Heaven, sweet Thomas. Your time here may have been brief, but the impact of your life on this Earth has been immeasurable. And, every time your name is spoken...every time your story is told, the beauty of Jesus meeting us there in that room with the rocking chair on July 14, 1998 is heard right along with it. It is one of the greatest blessings of my life to be your mother. I love you, sweet boy. And, thank you...