It’s been two years.
Two years ago today.
Two years ago today we experienced our greatest open heaven and deepest open heart-wound.
It’s been two years since I was in my family’s house when our sweet baby brother with mitochondrial disease went to be with Jesus. The season that has followed this moment has given us many different things, but we all have something in common:
We were changed.
I do not begin to claim that I understand the grief that comes from losing your child.
Yet I know this journey has, for all of us, been constant flickers between grief and glory.
In this season, we’ve felt like we were drowning.
We’ve also felt Christ’s hand pull us from the depths.
We’ve felt cold and empty.
We’ve felt God’s warmest, fullest embraces.
We’ve felt alone.
We’ve felt surrounded by Heaven’s armies.
|This picture was the closest to what I imagine when I hear "Grief and Glory." via|
It is all summed up right here, in John 11:4:
Aiden, your sickness was not unto death, but unto the Glory of God. You glorified the Son.
To my family: I love you. Mom, I love you.