Many years ago, back in 1981, we faced what every parent dreads might happen and did to us. Our second son, Joseph died. It is a decision out of a nightmare that God made and continues to live a little in your mind, long after it occurred, so I thought.
It is the time that you stop believing in God and his love,
instead, he becomes your enemy, and you vow never to speak to him again. How
could he take the life of a 21-month old? How could he deprive his parents the
opportunity to love him and receive his love, too?
Nothing in this world prepares you for it and nothing in
this world keeps you from remembering it. It is all consuming.
I remember when we learned that my daughter was going to be
a disabled child, and we realized that we needed to pull ourselves together,
not cry about it and instead help her. The ‘perfect child' had left the room
forever. When certain dates came up in regard to my son, we think of him, cast
ourselves into a private hell and cry. But when it comes to my daughter, she is
living testimony to what could have been and isn't: we mourn her every day. How
strange to mourn one who lives and not mourns one who is gone!
But in all this, I learned long ago that it is not God who
allows anything, it is life, and life is what he gave us, to live and die and
everything in between is up to us. None of us is ‘Blessed' none of us are
better than anyone else. To say someone is blessed is to say God didn't bless
the poor, didn't bless the hungry and the sick, but he blessed you because you
have healthy children or a big house and even a fancy car.
The blessing I receive are the memories of my children, the
love of my family and my love for them. These blessings are everyone's blessing
and should be accounted for.
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