It seems that life and death have been very present to me lately. I guess it began with the seemingly premature death of Michael Billings. Then on Sunday I was privileged to be a part of something I had never participated in before. Something, in fact, that I had never heard of before. On Sunday our church family and many others gathered for a memorial service for the tiny baby of our friends.
What was unique about this service is that this baby was only about 8 weeks into his or her development. But at 8 weeks gestational age it was no less a person than you or I, and it’s parents wanted to honor and recognize the personhood of their baby.
Our pastor preached a wonderful sermon on Joy in a Fallen World. He reminded us of the joy we have even in our sufferings, and the strength and power our testimony gains when the Lord has brought us through trials.
Then there was a very moving "graveside" service and the burial of the little baby.
What a wonderful time of healing for the parents. What a wonderful testimony about the value we, as Christians, place on life. So many women suffer miscarriages and don’t feel free to grieve the loss of the babies they never knew as deeply as they would the loss of born children. So many people act as though miscarriage is a more of a medical procedure or illness rather than the loss of a child. Not a child that was to be, but a child that was. I’m grateful that I was allowed to be a part of it.