How losing a child has impacted me and what I’ve learned through the process. If you’ve lost a child, had pregnancy complications, or know someone who has, you might appreciate these writings.
Today is Caleb’s 14th birthday, all of them celebrated in heaven, while we are stuck on earth without him in a mix of heart ache and sorrow. Certainly some things get better with time. Now I can (mostly*) control my emotions until I have time and privacy to cry. I can day dream about what life would look like with three boys instead of two. I can imagine what Caleb would be like and look like. I can share our story with others.
A few times this year I have been able to share with people about Caleb’s short life and how I survived his loss. A new neighbor, an old friend, a conference full of women, small groups and large groups at Bible study. Because I have so publicly shared our grief and God’s faithfulness, people ask me about Caleb often. When a friend of a friend loses a baby… When a neighbor’s sister has a miscarriage… When a friend’s co-worker has a still birth… I have the privilege to walk alongside them, to share my story, to share the hope I have that I will see Caleb again in heaven. I share about God’s love and faithfulness, that His peace filled me despite my devastation.
Now all these women are part of The Club. The Club you didn’t know existed until you were in it. The Club you never wanted to be part of. Moms who have lost babies. You realize that heartbreak isn’t just a saying, but a physical pain. Does it ever heal? Some days I’m still surprised by how quickly my grief can be triggered.
Earlier this year a friend of mine texted that she was at the hospital and had to deliver her baby a few weeks early. Even though her circumstances were different than mine, and her and the baby were expected to be healthy, I found myself sitting on the kitchen floor crying. I was so scared for her and the baby. I prayed that God would protect them and that everything would go well.
But then I also say “Why God… why does she get her baby and I didn’t get mine?” I see pictures of a preemie baby on Facebook … “God why couldn’t I make it a few more weeks? Then I’d have Caleb with me.” I really am grateful for every baby that gets to go home with their parents. I just wish I had mine too.
I don’t know the answer to why some moms get to take their babies home and some moms have empty arms. But I do know that sharing Caleb’s story has helped many women. I will always do my best to walk alongside the grieving, to show them God’s love, and to pray they find comfort and peace in Him like I have.
Happy 14th Birthday Caleb. I love you always!
*I wrote this while eating lunch at Jimmy John’s and definitely cried. But I’m ok with crying in public now.
This weekend I played guitar for the IF Gathering, a local women’s conference at church that featured some video speakers from the national conference, as well as featuring some local speakers. At 10pm on Friday night my sister who organized the event realized a couple people she had asked weren’t able to speak the next morning and there was a gap in the schedule.
I was standing there with the planning team when one said, “Debbie why don’t you share your story?” We all kind of laughed because it was such short notice. Except I’ve written so many different parts of it, I thought I could combine things if you want. About 11 hours later, I shared my story…
About 13 years ago I had some news for my husband, so I made him a special dinner. He walked in the door and I told him the menu. “Tonight we are having BABY back ribs, sweet BABY ray’s bbq sauce, and BABY carrots.” Jeff said “Oh that’s funny. All those things have “baby” in the name.” It took him a minute to figure out the news was that I was pregnant!
We were so excited for our first baby. We dreamed and planned … But halfway through the pregnancy our dreams came to a crushing end. I found myself being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, doctors telling me that I’m already in labor and they can’t stop it. I would have to deliver our baby that night but he wouldn’t survive.
A range of emotions and thoughts filled our minds over the next few hours as we waited for labor to intensify. But our main focus was, we didn’t have a name for this baby. What do you name a baby who will go straight to heaven?
There was one bible story that kept coming to mind. It’s the story of Moses leading the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt. They had miraculously left Egypt, survived the plagues that God sent to Pharaoh and the Egyptian people, the Israelites crossed the Red Sea on dry ground as God parted the waters.. and now they’re in the desert where God miraculously provided manna for them. They were on their way to the Promised Land. It’s called “the Promised Land” because God promised to give this land to the Israelites. That simple.
Moses decides to send 12 men into the promised land to spy on it, to check it out and report back to the people what they find. These 12 men come back and say the land is amazing. It’s exactly how God promised – flowing with milk and honey, filled with the best fruits. BUT 10 men said there are giants living there. And we can’t beat them. The other 2 men said yes there are giants, but God is giving us this land. Let’s go! Those two men were Joshua and Caleb. Unfortunately the Israelites caved in to the fear that the 10 men had. They were afraid of the giants. They doubted God. And so God said that those people would not see the promised land. The entire generation would die, except for Joshua and Caleb.
They roamed around the wilderness, the desert for 40 years, waiting for that generation of Israelites to die. Then Joshua and Caleb, now in their 80s would lead the people into the promised land.
What does this story have to do with a baby? I knew there were going to be “giants” in my future. There would be fears about having children, trying to get pregnant again, losing another baby. I did not want to live in fear. I wanted to be like Joshua and Caleb who had faith in God. So I said to my husband, how about we name the baby Joshua? He said there was a Josh in kindergarten who punched him in the nose. So how about Caleb?
Naming our baby Caleb was a reminder – is still a reminder – to me to not give in to fear and worry, but to have faith in God. Because of Jesus, I have faith.
Caleb died at birth. We held his body all night. The next day we left the hospital without him and began planning his funeral. In the days and weeks and months that followed, the grief I experienced was unlike anything I had ever known. I would cry myself to sleep almost every night. I had always been a pretty stoic person, but after having Caleb, there was no filter on my emotions. I remember being at the grocery store when the checkout lady asked “how are you?” And I began tearing up “I’m not good…” My husband would be like “She’s not really asking to hear your story.” But I felt like I was an open book, like sorrow was written on my face.
What got me through these days was the Word of God. Thankfully I grew up going to church, in high school I made my faith my own, and in college I had begun reading the Bible every day. This foundation of faith saved me. In my time of sorrow and mourning, Bible verses came to my mind of God’s comfort, of God being with the broken-hearted, of God seeing every tear I cry, of God’s unfailing love. Despite the grief and the sorrow, I had peace. Because of Jesus, I have peace.
Baby Caleb
Several months later I got pregnant again. From the beginning, I was confident that everything was going to be fine. But halfway through the pregnancy, I began to have the same problems. Thankfully the doctors were able to do emergency surgery putting in a cerclage to keep the baby safe inside me. Except it meant I had to be on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy – 4 months flat on my back.
Those months of bed rest could have been filled with fear and worry and anxiety. Because of losing Caleb, I understood very clearly that bed rest meant life or death for this baby. There was nothing I could do, no money I could pay, no medicine to take to fix this situation. The only thing I could do was pray.
I happened to be reading in Mark at that time and came across 11:24 where Jesus is talking to his disciples about faith. Jesus says to them, “Whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you HAVE received it, and it will be yours.” It really struck me to believe you have already received it, as if it was past-tense. So I prayed for a full-term baby. I started a blog and I asked friends and family to pray with us. At my weekly doctor appointments, they would measure everything and then say my goal was 24 weeks, then 26 weeks, then 28 weeks. And every time I would say, “no, I’ve prayed for a full-term baby and I believe God will give him to us.” I didn’t say this as a way to try to witness to my doctors. I said it because I needed to believe. I needed to keep reminding myself that because of Jesus, I have faith.
At 37 weeks a baby is considered full-term. My doctor removed the cerclage and I was no longer on bed rest. It was May so I was pulling weeds and doing yard work, so excited that I could finally do whatever I wanted. The doctors expected the baby would come any day. I knew my prayer was answered and expected the baby to come soon too. But at 40 weeks and 5 days I was induced! God did what only He could do. My doctors were great, medical advancements are great. But some things you know are only God. That healthy baby boy was my son Jack who is now 11 years old. I have another son, Parker, who is 8. Because of Jesus, I have faith.
Today I have a different kind of suffering. It has been 5 months since my last concussion. I have had 4 concussions in my life, but the last three were in less than two years from playing adult recreational indoor soccer. After 5 months I still have headaches, I still have some dizziness, I still have a lot of fatigue, I still have times of being irritable. I have times where I struggle to remember the words I want to say. Times when writing or reading or playing guitar are really challenging. I still see a physical therapist and an occupational therapist every week. Although I have made a lot of progress, I’m still in a period of suffering. At times I doubt and I struggle and I question, “is this my new normal?”
It’s hard to be suffering and still functional. It’s hard to be suffering and still take care of my kids – especially when they want to play soccer or football and I can’t run yet. It’s hard to be suffering and still take care of work and responsibilities, or my house, or my family. It’s hard to be suffering and have faith. It’s hard to be suffering and have peace.
Light and sound sensitive, so I wore a hat and sunglasses for months when leading music
But I look back and see what God has done in my life. I look back and I see the peace He gave me when I was grieving Caleb. I see the faith God gave me when I was on bedrest. And now I see the Hope. Because of Jesus I have hope that this isn’t the end of my story. Hope that fear is not my future and sickness is not my story. It’s not about a cure. Yes, I hope that one day I will be fully healed. But like Katherine Wolf said in her talk last night, it’s not about a cure, but about what God is doing in me now in this process to get to healing. Because of Jesus I have hope that His plan is better than my plans. Hope that He can work all things together for good. Hope that He can bring purpose to my pain. Because of Jesus I have hope.
Maybe you can relate to parts of my story. Maybe you have experienced miscarriage or infant loss or pregnancy challenges. Maybe you have walked through a health crisis. Maybe you’re walking through it now. Maybe the challenges you have faced have been a wayward child, a divorce, the loss of a career, the death of a parent… unfortunately we know difficulties will come.
But I hope like me that you have a foundation of faith to rest on. I hope that you will be able to keep your eyes fixed on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith. That you would rest in God’s promise to mold us into becoming more like Him. That you would consider it pure joy when you face trials, knowing that the testing of our faith would produce perseverance.
Because of Jesus, I have peace.
Because of Jesus, I have faith.
Because of Jesus, I have hope.
Lets pray. Lord Jesus I thank you that you are the Giver of all good gifts. I thank you that you never leave us or forsake us. Thank you Lord for walking with us through life’s difficulties, for being our comfort. Thank you for giving us peace, faith and hope. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
When Caleb first died, I remember posting on social media about our loss. Friends would comment their condolences and express how heartbroken they were with me. But then I would see their posts of birthday parties or kids sports games or whatever fun they were having. “How can my world feel like it has ended and theirs just keeps going?” I would think.
As time went on, I realized my world hadn’t ended. But there are still days when grief hits so hard that I want everything else to stop. I want to be able to sit in the sadness and remember Caleb. I want to cry without the pressure of only having a few minutes. I want my world to stop so I can remember.
I’m writing this from a junior high gym filled with students playing different band instruments, warming up for their solo ensembles. And I don’t have Kleenex in my pocket.
Today is Caleb’s 13th birthday, each of them celebrated in heaven. In those 13 years, I’ve had two more children. One warming up for his solo ensemble. The other getting ready for his basketball game. My world keeps spinning.
This has been a week where I wanted everything to stop so I could have time to be sad. But yesterday was my best friend’s 40th birthday. Then last night I emceed our school’s fundraising dinner which I helped plan. These are things I love, people I want to celebrate, events I enjoy. Yet my heart sits in conflict between the grief of losing Caleb and the joys of today.
In the months after Caleb first died, I could not compartmentalize my emotions. The check out lady at the grocery store would say “hi how are you?” And I would tell her the truth, “I’m not good. My son just died.” She was not expecting that. Jeff would tell me, “just say ‘fine.’ People don’t really want to know all that.” But with me, what you saw was what you got. My emotions were so raw that I felt like you could look at me and tell my heart was broken.
I’m better at compartmentalizing now. But I don’t necessarily think that’s a good thing. I cried Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. Then I stopped. I stopped thinking about Caleb. I turned off my emotions. I let my world keep spinning so I could celebrate my best friend, so I could plan a fun event, so I could raise money for school, so I can be present at the band ensemble and basketball game. And I do enjoy it all.
I think Caleb would have enjoyed it too. He would have loved a golfing party with my friend. He’d support his brothers at their events and probably have his own too. We’d be planning a special dinner or party with his friends. I wish we had that.
I wish for a lot of things with Caleb. But I know he has the best in Heaven. Someday we’ll be together again. No tears, no pain, no heartache. No compartmentalizing emotions. Just joy.
Sometimes this is what grief looks like: laying in bed in the afternoon crying as I anticipate the anniversary of my first baby’s birth and death. Eleven years on Thursday.
Every year I write a blog post for Caleb’s birthday. I used to write much more frequently, but the last several years have been sporadic. But I always post on his birthday. It’s our thing. Except this year I don’t know what to write. What haven’t I already written?
What happens when the words don’t come? Is Caleb’s life any less meaningful? Does it mean the grief is easier to bear?
With two kids here at home, life can just get busy. We have plans to decorate some rocks and put them by Caleb’s grave. Possibly mini golf party with some friends. Pizza and milkshakes for dinner. Things we think an 11 year old boy would love.
But usually around this time, I just want to be alone and cry and think of what could have been. Yet at the same time, I don’t want to be alone. I want hugs and words from friends. I want reminders that Caleb was special to others. I want people to remember that our family has three boys, not just the two they see.
Thankfully I do have amazing family and friends who have grieved with me and comforted me. Friends who will stand with me these days but also give me space for whatever I’m feeling.
After 11 years of this, I know it tends to be the anticipation of Caleb’s birthday that is worse than the actual day. But for today I lean into the grief. I let myself cry and feel the sadness. I know because I’ve lived it for 11 years, “weeping my last for a night but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5).
I might not have more words this year on Caleb’s birthday. But there’s a lot from past years that are worth reading again 😊
My husband, Jeff, and I with baby Caleb. February 24, 2011
Tomorrow, February 24, 2021, will mark 10 years since our first baby was born and died. By the time we realized something was wrong with the pregnancy, I was already in labor but only about 20 weeks along. We had a few brief hours to prepare our hearts for the fact that our baby would not survive. Even if you had days, weeks, or months, nothing can truly prepare you for the loss of your child.
In the days that followed Caleb’s death, the question became what will I do with my grief? I had no choice in the life or death of my son. But I did have a choice with grief. Would I let it consume and overwhelm me, bringing me to a place of negativity, fear, and solitude? Or would I find a way to let grief motivate me to be more compassionate, to find the good despite the sadness, and to find joy in what I have been given?
Through God’s grace, I chose the latter. I’ve shared Caleb’s story countless times, writing about him here, talking about him at Bible studies, retreats, and fundraising dinners. I have sat with friends, or friends of friends, who have faced similar losses and we have grieved together. I found a ministry that I didn’t know existed or was needed until I was thrown into it. Just last week a friend texted, “Help! My friend just lost her baby. What do I do?” Although I hate that anyone has to go through the loss of a child, I am glad that I can help in some small way. For me, being able to help others is what continues to give Caleb’s short life meaning and purpose.
Parker (5) and Jack (8)
Now I have two boys, ages eight and five, who certainly keep me busy and entertained. I often post pictures of our adventures on social media. Sometimes people will comment that I’m a good mom. While I appreciate the compliment, I try to point out that I only post the good stuff 😉 But, if I’m being honest and a little less humble, I am a good mom. It isn’t so much about the fun vacations we take our kids on, or the gifts we buy them. I’m a good mom because I play with my children. I’m involved in their lives everyday. I have many friends who’s kids play mostly on their own, and that’s great! But for me, I know what it’s like to want to play with my son and not be able to. I know what its like when grief steals your dreams. That same grief motivates me to enjoy the life I have, the ability to play with my children, to make normal life feel like an adventure for them.
I have a few friends who have faced significant loss in their lives. The few I am thinking of each lost a sibling. Those friends are the ones that comment on Facebook, send cards of remembrance, and are the first to try to comfort others who are grieving. They know the pain of grief and it has motivated them to be compassionate to others.
Unfortunately, we will all face grief in our lifetimes in some manner. How will grief transform you? I definitely have moments and days (like today actually), where I just want to sleep and cry and not play with my children. But more often, I can choose to find joy despite the sadness, to share comfort with others who are grieving, and to enjoy the life God has given me.
“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:13-14
Nine years ago today, I laid in a hospital bed unprepared for the news I would hear. “You have to deliver the baby today but he won’t survive.” Incompatible with life. Just a couple more weeks in the womb and the story would be so different.
We held our baby Caleb, remarking on his long fingers and fingernails, and how he had his daddy’s nose. While our eyes filled with tears we knew he was home in heaven. In those moments I learned the depth of a mother’s love and the depth of a mother’s pain.
The days and weeks and months that followed brought grief, yet hope, sadness, yet trust in God, heartache, yet faith. I had family and friends who surrounded me in prayer, hope and support. It’s called a Turtle Formation.
In Bible times, when Roman soldiers were under attack they would come together with their shields – as big as doors – and huddle inside with the shields facing out. The formation looked like the shell of a turtle. Each shield was so big it would cover one soldier plus the gaps on the sides between soldiers. The enemy would hurl flaming arrows, but the shields would extinguish them.
Ephesians 6:16 tells us that God gives us armor. “Take up your shields of faith with which to extinguish the fiery darts of the enemy.”
On days like this I remember Caleb, nine years in heaven. I remember the sadness I felt. I remember leaning against the tree by his grave praying God would bring him back to life. I remember crying in the grocery store. I remember discovering that Kleenex shreds into pieces on my tear-stained cheeks. And I remember the faith-filled friends who stood by me.
Every comment on Facebook, every heart emoji, every text, every card, every phone call – they extinguish those fiery darts the enemy throws trying to make me question and doubt. Friends, your words have helped me stand firm taking up my shield of faith. I thank God for you!
Do you have friends like that? Do you have friends who hold up their shields of faith to protect you when you are hurting? When you face struggles and temptations, do you have friends to call? I hope you never need them. But I know that isn’t reality. We all need people to stand with us in faith when our faith is tested.
Be the friend who calls, who remembers, who cares. Take up your shield of faith and know that God is good, He is faithful, and you can trust Him.
For 8 years, a piece of my heart has been missing. When my first son Caleb was born, 8 years ago today, he went straight to heaven. We held his tiny body. 10 fingers, 10 toes. Daddy’s nose. Eye lashes, finger nails. (Lord may I humbly suggest you work on the vital organs and lungs before nails and eyelashes.) Caleb was born prematurely and wouldn’t live on this earth.
The joy of being a new mom immediately replaced with the sorrow of losing a child. He never called me Mommy or told me he loved me. But the day he was born my heart grew so much. I loved Caleb more than I ever knew I could love anyone! Saying goodbye at his grave I buried a piece of my heart. A big piece.
In the years that followed, Jeff and I had two more sons Jack (6) and Parker (3). Some people say things like “sorry for Caleb’s loss BUT at least you have Jack and Parker.” I understand what they mean and their good intentions. But there is no BUT. I have sorrow and grief about Caleb’s death and no other child can replace him or fix the grief. At first I thought it would.
When Jack was born, I thought now I have my boy. But it was different. There should have been two boys. Then we had Parker and I had my two boys. But there should be three. Sometimes I’ll buy matching clothes for Jack and Parker and have this longing to buy a third set. There should be three.
Chasing Jack and Parker around certainly fills my time and brings me joy. But my heart will always be split. My heart and ability to love has grown exponentially with each child, more than I ever thought possible. But a piece of my heart will always be in heaven with Caleb until one day we are reunited.
Until then I rest in the knowledge that God is good, faithful, and trustworthy. He is near to the broken-hearted. He sees every tear I cry. He gives me peace that passes all understanding. Thank You Lord.
About six years ago I had a special announcement for my husband, so I made him a special dinner. He walked in the door and I told him the menu. “Tonight we are having BABY back ribs, sweet BABY ray’s bbq sauce, and BABY carrots.” Jeff said “Oh that’s funny. All those things have “baby” in the name.” It took him a minute to figure out the announcement was that I was pregnant!
We dreamed and planned for this first baby of ours until about halfway through the pregnancy when our dreams came to a crushing end. I found myself being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, doctors telling me that I’m already in labor and they can’t stop it. That night I delivered our first son, Caleb, born at just 20 weeks and too small to live.
We were devastated. This wasn’t how I planned things. The grief and sadness were overwhelming. Instead of decorating a nursery, we were planning a funeral. Instead of picking out baby clothes, we were picking out a gravestone. We stood in the front of the church, with a shoebox-sized coffin in front of us, while the congregation sang “Great is Thy Faithfulness,” a song I had chosen. I was crying too hard to sing the words, but in my heart I knew it to be true. “Morning by morning new mercies I see. All I have needed the Lord has provided.” But amidst all the questions and sadness, I stood firm on the foundation of faith I had, knowing that, even though I don’t understand it all, I know that God is good, that He is faithful and He loves me.
A few weeks later I went back to work, only to find the non-profit I worked for needed to restructure and now I was out of a job. I was supposed to be a stay-at-home mom, but now I’m home with no job and no baby. Again the grief feels overwhelming, but I stand on the foundation of faith.
I get a call from the Young Life area director at the time saying the office administrator moved away and asking if I have any time that I could help in the office. “Yes!” in fact I had a lot of time. Instead of having an identity crisis and sinking into despair, volunteering at the Young Life office gave me a purpose, a reason to wake up in the morning.
About six months later I got pregnant again and this time I was confident everything was going to be fine. But halfway through the pregnancy, I began to have the same problems. Thankfully the doctors were able to do surgery and keep the baby safe inside me. Except it meant I had to be on bed rest for 4 months – flat on my back for 4 months. Those 4 months could have been so boring. But friends and family, and many Young Life friends surrounded me. They brought me dinners, made me lunch, brought me Starbucks. These Young Life friends didn’t even know me very well, but knew a Young Life friend was in need and they were going to do what they could to help.
Those months of bed rest could have been filled with fear and worry and anxiety. Because of losing Caleb, I understood very clearly that bed rest meant life or death for this baby. But I stood firm on the foundation of faith, trusting that God is good, He is faithful and He loves me.
Well the rest of the pregnancy was miraculous and Jack was born. He is 4 years old now. I have another son, Parker, who is almost one year old. In fact I wasn’t at last year’s Young Life banquet, because I was in the hospital giving birth to Parker!
I tell you these stories because they are examples of things not going as I planned. I’m sure you can relate – whether it’s losing a child, losing a job, death of a loved one, an illness, a wayward child, a divorce – the list goes on of things that happen in our lives that we didn’t plan. The question isn’t IF something happens, but WHEN something happens in your life that you didn’t plan, what are you going to do? When the world as you know it falls apart and you are at rock bottom, what will you be standing on?
I had a foundation of faith because of people that poured into my life when I was a teenager. People who showed me what it looks like to be a Christian, how to trust God even when I don’t have all the answers. I learned verses in the Bible that showed me God is good, He is faithful and He loves me. I had a Foundation of Faith to stand on.
Tonight you have the opportunity to give a foundation of faith to students. You have the opportunity to partner with Young Life and ensure that teens across Naperville & Aurora hear about the God who is good, who is faithful, and who loves them. You can be part of their story, so one day when their world is shaken and their plans don’t work out, they have a solid Foundation of Faith to stand on.
Maybe you came in here with a number in mind of what you were going to give. But I encourage you, now that you’ve heard about how great ministry is, you’ve heard our vision for the future, you’ve seen these kids and heard how God has used Young Life to change their lives. Think about how much it’s worth. How much is it worth to provide a foundation of faith? How much is it worth to reach another student, another class of students, another school? How much is it worth?
There are many ways you can spend your money. But they’re temporary. You buy a shirt, but eventually the shirt gets stained, or doesn’t fit or isn’t in style. You buy groceries, but then your family eats all the food and you have to go back to the store. You can buy stocks and see incremental increases or decreases. But it’s still temporary. Not with Young Life. Giving to Young Life is investing in our community. Investing in our students. As a Young Life donor, you are part of these students’ stories. Your donation is making an eternal impact.
You can see in the program that our annual budget is $400,000. A gift of any amount is wonderful and we thank you for that. But what we really need are monthly donors, that helps us know how much money is coming in each month and how to plan for the future. We are also looking for people to be Foundational Donors, which means giving $10,000 each year for three years. I encourage you to give generously, where your gift will make an eternal impact, where students will hear about the God who is good, who is faithful and who loves them. Give where you can provide a Foundation of Faith.
Give Online or Email me (Debbie@ylchicago.com) to be a Foundational Donor
After helping in Jack’s school this morning, we headed out to have lunch at Grammy and Granddad’s and then visit Caleb’s grave. However both Jack and Parker fell asleep on the way. So I went straight to visit my Caleb.
It’s still surprising to see my son’s name on a gravestone. But I also smile when I see it because it stands out. The almost black stone with white lettering peeking over the hill as you drive up behind the church where I grew up.
What do you out on the grave for a little boy? Flowers don’t always feel right to me, especially since it’s hard to find blue ones. Sometimes we put a balloon there or those spinny pinwheels. Today I realized I didn’t have anything.
I figured we’d stop at the store and pick something up but since the boys were asleep I didn’t have many options. Hmm what’s in the car that might be appropriate? Trail mix? Jack begged me to get these trail mix packs but of course he only eats the M&Ms.
So while two of my boys slept in the car, I stood before Caleb’s grave and sprinkled nuts, raisins and M&Ms around it. The deer and squirrels will appreciate it. And we like feeding animals. I stood there and sang.
Whatever my lot, You have taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul.
God I wish I could have all of my boys here. But I trust You, even when I don’t understand.
Thou Satan should buffet, thou trials should come. Let this blest assurance control: That Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul!
I know I’ll see Caleb again in heaven.
Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight…
Happy birthday Caleb. Hope you’re getting some M&Ms in heaven 😊
Debbie Chun 