There is a grieving mommy whose arms are empty tonight. They shouldn't be. A sweet baby boy should be cradled there nursing at her breast and staring up into her loving eyes. I hate that it isn't so.
Instead, her arms are empty and her heart is broken. And, my heart is broken for her.
She is my friend and my sister.
I know I cannot comprehend the depth of her grief. I don't fool myself into thinking that I can. I can't. But, I can comprehend the depth of her love, because I am a fellow mother. I love my children with the same fierce and incomprehensible love that she loved her boy. I understand that love and even though Ewan is no longer here, I know that love lives on in his mama. I get that.
Even though I never met him, I loved Ewan with a real and tangible love. I remember the joy I felt when I read Kirsten's email, 9 months ago now, that she was expecting a child. Tears of joy and prayers of thanksgiving! I remember the gut wrenching pain I felt when I learned that the child she was carrying had a broken heart and the months I spent praying for a miracle. I remember the nights I spent praying through to the early morning hours, after he was born; I can still taste the tears I shed pleading to God to spare his life.
But, we live in a fallen world and even though God is the ultimate victor, sin and death still rule this earth for now. I hate that it is so.
I never got to meet Ewan, but someday I will. Death doesn't have the final say. Praise the Lord! Jesus Christ has conquered death. Ewan is in heaven now, perfect and whole, singing to his Maker in the presence of the angels and saints. And someday I will get to meet that precious baby and stand together with him worshiping God. And someday, his mama's broken heart will be healed and all her tears will be diamonds poured at the feet of Jesus.
Today is a sad day, but I live in hope of that future day.
Sing, baby Ewan,
Sing, little one.
Sing to Jesus.
And, someday,
we'll sing with you.
