Four years ago I gave birth to my second son. My sixth child. His labor was long and painful. He was amazing. He was immediately enveloped into the fold of our family’s love.
I held him through the night. I fed and nurtured him at my breast. I dreamed dreams of his future.
But I had no idea.
I had no idea in just nine weeks he would leave my arms for another world. I didn’t know a lot of things that day. I didn’t know:
That I had so much strength.
Jesus prepared me for the journey long before I took the first step. He built me brick by brick. He unleashed the Spirit on me.
The Spirit of God, who raised Jesus from the dead, lives in you. And just as God raised Christ Jesus from the dead, he will give life to your mortal bodies by this same Spirit living within you. Rom. 8:11
That I could rely on God so much.
Losing one of my children was my deepest fear. I was so terrified of it that I never spoke it for fear the demons would know my weakness.
What God showed me was that I could go into my deepest fear. I could go to my scary place. I could walk through the valley of death and he was still there. And wherever he is enough.
There were days he gave me breath I didn’t have. He pulled me out of my bed and stood me on my feet. He unveiled hope I couldn’t see.
The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need… Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will not be afraid. Ps. 23:1,4
That I really did believe.
Before my tragedy hit I suppose my Christian life was a lot like Job’s. It could have been said that I only followed the Lord because he put a hedge around me. I suppose he did. I had a happy marriage, a beautiful home, healthy children and a vibrant church.
I wonder if Satan approached Yahweh’s throne that day the same as he did back then. I wonder if he accused me the way he did Job. I wonder if he believed I would crumble.
I wonder if God said, “Do it!” Knowing that I wouldn’t.
From the very first moment I picked up my lifeless son’s body I cried “Jesus.” I had no other word. I had no other thought. I had no other hope.
The shock melted into pain which grew into grief and grief into depression and apathy. But one thing never changed. Jesus was still there.
He was there to bind every new wound that tore through my heart. He still is.
The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning. Is. 61:1-3
Happy Birthday Azaiah Stone!
You made me a better woman, a better mother and a better disciple. I love you.
