"Who better to take care of our baby than God?" A friend of mine shared these words with me after losing her baby a year ago. At the time, I couldn't relate personally to how she was feeling. Now I can. I hate that I'll never get to hold my baby. I hate that I won't get to see her first smile or hear her first laugh. I hate that I won't be the one wiping her tears. But I'm glad God will. He is, after all, the best Father a girl could ask for. He'll never make a mistake. He'll never lose his temper. He will be a better parent than I ever could be. So...if Eden isn't going to be with us, I'm glad she's with God.
I cannot imagine going through this without the hope of heaven. I hurt for me. I hurt for Keith. I hurt for the grandparents who will never get to meet their grandbaby on this earth. But I don't hurt for Eden. I know she's doing well. Whatever caused her body to not function well on this earth is fixed now. She's probably up in heaven having a blast, playing with all the other babies who have left the earth too soon. I still wonder what she'll be like when we get there-if she'll still be a baby or not. But at least I know she'll be there. I'll get to see her someday. Not in April, like I had planned, but someday.
In June, before we were even pregnant with Eden, I wrote a devotional about losing a child and worshiping through the pain. I talked about the examples of David and Job. Both of these men lost children and both of them continued to worship. I wrote these words, " I pray I never lose a child, but if God allows it, I want to worship like David and Job did. With one eye looking to heaven while I finish up on earth." I'm proud to say that I'm getting there. This past Sunday I was able to sing again. Through tears, yes, but I could still sing. God is still God, and I will still worship.