The Would-Be Second Birthday

Today we’ll have a family birthday celebration, but the guest of honor will only be present with us in the form of photos, videos, and keepsakes. While I rejoice in her birth, it is a painful reminder of the realities of her death and the should-be present things on this would-be second birthday: the empty high chair, the missing mischief of a typical two year old, the tiny words or sounds we would be hearing, the soft snuggles…The photos that stopped on January 18, 2023 make December 28th a very painful day in the quietness of this morning.

Soon the sorrow will be overshadowed by sounds of people waking up, schedules rolling, and doing some things we have planned to remember MonaJean today.

Before everyone rose this morning, risking a potential disaster, I balanced on a wheeled chair to retrieve a small plastic bin perched on the top shelf of my closet. (A step stool might’ve been safer…thankfully I dodged any disasters). It’s a memory bin packed full of far too few memories.

I touched every piece of clothing, held every blanket and every bow, and just sat in the sadness. Filing through the cards, I re-read every note written, and though the tears flowed, I was reminded of what a beautiful lasting impact that brief life and tiny person had on my heart and the hearts of others. Thank you, God.

I also re-read the message I shared at my baby shower. When I wrote those words, I didn’t realize how much they’d minister to my heart on this day. I ended the message with this short poem whose author is unknown, but was quoted by the late Elisabeth Elliot:

Love Divine has seen and counted every tear it caused to fall, and the storm which love appointed was its choicest gift of all.

Our church Bible reading plan is coming to a close, and though it’s scheduled for Monday, I read ahead to Revelation 21. A new heaven and new earth are coming, and John had a sneak-peek that he recorded and that has been preserved for us to be able to hang on and hold onto this future hope:

And I heard a loud voice from the throne, saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them, and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning or crying, or pain…” (Rev. 21:3-4)

There’s not a person who will read this who hasn’t had tears rolling down their cheeks due to the confusing, broken realities of this life.

Though our guest of honor is absent, I love to think about Who she’s celebrating with. And while my tears may roll today, I am encouraged by this bright future that’s coming one day where the gentle, strong, sovereign hand of God takes his thumb, looks straight into my eyes, lovingly wipes those tears away.