A Revelation

Last week was a kind of tough week.  On Thursday I attended a memorial for the son of someone I work with who had been killed in a car accident.  That night I watched Grey's Anatomy, which I watch every week.  But that night there was a preemie and it hit me hard. 


Grief is a funny thing that way.  You can be going on with your life, happy-go-lucky, living with the memory and then... BAM!  Something happens and throws you right back to the moments and days right after the loss.  That's how it was for me Thursday night.  I found myself staring at our video baby monitor to remind myself that Eli really was here and that I hadn't somehow gone back in time to July 2008.


On Sunday, though, sitting at church listening to the homily I felt like God reached down and touched me, giving me comfort during that week and for all of the days/weeks like that.


The Gospel reading this Sunday was about Jesus making a blind man see.  

As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.
                                         - John 9:1-3

Hearing this and our priest saying it was for God's glory that the man was born blind, it struck me.  Since Logan died I have wondered how the death of my little boy could possibly bring God glory.  Sure, if he had lived I would have said his life was a miracle and it was only possible because of God.  But how on earth could his death bring God glory.


Sitting in that pew, by myself (because Doug and Eli were in the cry room), it was hit me like a jolt...


If every baby lived, no one would think it was a miracle.  If every preemie went home healthy, it wouldn't be amazing when a 24 weeker survived.  It would be expected, and people wouldn't praise God for the miracle survivor.  


At one time, a baby born at 30, 32, or 34 weeks was not expected to live.  But now, with all the advances in medicine, they are expected to go home.  Not many people marvel over the fact that they grow up healthy.  But when a 24 or 26 weeker makes it, that's news.  


Even within my own little family, I doubt I would have regarded Eli's birth as such a miracle if it hadn't been for Logan's death.  Sure, I would have thanked God for giving me this little baby, but I most likely wouldn't have felt the deep gratitude and praise that I feel now.  I probably wouldn't wake up every single morning thanking God for one more day.  Even on the days when Eli is at his fussiest, when I can't get anything done, I find myself thanking God that I have a reason to be so frustrated.  But I doubt I would have felt that way if Logan been born healthy.


And there are plenty of other people in my life who give their kids extra hugs and kisses and hold them a little tighter, all because of Logan.  And that gives me some measure of comfort, at least a partial answer to the often asked question, why.




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In other news, Eli is 6 months old today!  It's so crazy to me how fast the time is passing.  He has his 6 month check up next week, so I'm going to wait until after that appointment to update you on all things Eli.