An Emptiness That Will Never Be Filled
Monday, June 17, 2024
Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. Ps.m 42:5, NIV.
Make her breathe, Peter! Make her breathe!"
My mind screamed the words to our obstetrician friend, but the delivery room was deadly silent. The child who moments before had been kicking in my womb was now cradled in his hands. So tiny; so fragile. He handed our daughter to me and my husband, and we held her as her heart slowed and finally stopped. Her lungs were too premature to take even one small breath.
I stared at the perfect features of my little girl, etching them forever in my mind. Although I felt the warmth go out of the doll-like body, I still could not give her up. I asked for a basin of water, and with the help of a friend washed her and wrapped her in a soft, white blanket. Then I rocked her gently.
We brought our other children in to see the sister who would never grow up to be their friend. When they had gone, my husband tenderly lifted her from my arms. "They're here for her. You have to let her go."
Of course I did, but it broke my heart.
I thought the tears would never stop. Then to add to the pain, an infection kept me in the hospital through the maze of following days and nights and the funeral. My homecoming, when it finally arrived, was not one of victory, but of desperation. Healing resulted from my physician husband's skilled hands and my sister-in-law's loving arms.
My mind cleared slowly, as if a fog were being burned off by the scent of the lilacs and the laughter of my children. Life returned to what would now be normal. But even after all these years, not a day passes that I don't think of my baby. There is an emptiness deep inside that will never be filled. Oh, how I long for her resurrection!
I wonder, as I think of my pain, how God's heart must break over the eternal loss of even one of His children. I have the feeling an emptiness deep inside Him will never be filled either!
What event in your life makes you long for heaven?
Make her breathe, Peter! Make her breathe!"
My mind screamed the words to our obstetrician friend, but the delivery room was deadly silent. The child who moments before had been kicking in my womb was now cradled in his hands. So tiny; so fragile. He handed our daughter to me and my husband, and we held her as her heart slowed and finally stopped. Her lungs were too premature to take even one small breath.
I stared at the perfect features of my little girl, etching them forever in my mind. Although I felt the warmth go out of the doll-like body, I still could not give her up. I asked for a basin of water, and with the help of a friend washed her and wrapped her in a soft, white blanket. Then I rocked her gently.
We brought our other children in to see the sister who would never grow up to be their friend. When they had gone, my husband tenderly lifted her from my arms. "They're here for her. You have to let her go."
Of course I did, but it broke my heart.
I thought the tears would never stop. Then to add to the pain, an infection kept me in the hospital through the maze of following days and nights and the funeral. My homecoming, when it finally arrived, was not one of victory, but of desperation. Healing resulted from my physician husband's skilled hands and my sister-in-law's loving arms.
My mind cleared slowly, as if a fog were being burned off by the scent of the lilacs and the laughter of my children. Life returned to what would now be normal. But even after all these years, not a day passes that I don't think of my baby. There is an emptiness deep inside that will never be filled. Oh, how I long for her resurrection!
I wonder, as I think of my pain, how God's heart must break over the eternal loss of even one of His children. I have the feeling an emptiness deep inside Him will never be filled either!
What event in your life makes you long for heaven?
Used by permission of Health Ministries, North American Division of Seventh-day Adventists.
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