Dan wrote this letter from us to share at Isaiah’s recent service.
It’s hard to find the words to express exactly what we’re thinking and feeling right now. Mere words probably aren’t enough to convey it all anyhow, but we wanted to take a few moments to try anyway.
It seems like we were just getting used to the idea of having a baby in the house again – you caught us a bit by surprise! It would have been okay though, because there is not a day that goes by where your older sisters don’t remind us of why we love being parents. We were looking forward to holding your little hands, listening to your little laugh, and seeing what mischief you were going to get into to tease your sisters – we imagine you’d be pretty good at being impish. Mostly, we were beginning to get excited to see how much love and joy you would add to our little family.
Turns out, by the will of God, that was not to be.
We won’t get to see you grow, take your first steps, laugh, smile, or practice using your words. We won’t get to see you reading your favorite book to your teddy bear, or chasing your sisters around the house. We won’t get to see you crashing your toy cars on the kitchen floor, or jumping into puddles just to watch the mud fly. We won’t get to watch you learn to respect your momma and treat your sisters like princesses. We won’t get to encourage you to always see justice done, or to always be kind to people, even when you don’t feel like it. We won’t get to push you to always do what is right, even if it might not benefit you to do so. We won’t get to see if you’ll be the leader who stands on the front lines and rallies others to his side, or if you’ll be the soft-spoken leader who leads quietly by example. We won’t get to lead you to the cross and to the all powerful King who died on it to save us all from ourselves, or teach you to follow Him and look for Him in every circumstance.
Instead, you’re the one who has taught us.
Though your time on this earth was fleeting, you’ve already taught us both how to be grateful for what we have – family, friends, church, home, and health. You’ve taught us not to take for granted the people in our lives. You’ve taught us that difficult things in this broken world are impossible to overcome without church and family. You’ve taught us to empathize with the suffering and hurt of others, what to say and what not to say to those who hurt, and how to just listen. You’ve taught us how to be bold in the face of what seems to be impossible circumstances. Most importantly, you’ve taught us to recognize how God answers prayer even in the deepest and darkest of nights, and that He provides for us in every circumstance, through answered prayers and the kindness of others.
You are now with the Father. The one we all call Father. The Ultimate Parent, the King who is so big, so wise, and so loving that He created parenting itself. You have gone straight to the source. And though your time with us was exceedingly short, we can’t help but think that in the end, that’s the best place for you to be. You do not have to try and learn about the perfect Father through the murky lens of your two imperfect parents – you are with the source of every virtue, every value, and every good and perfect thing the world has ever known. The beginning and the end of even time itself, the One who holds the entire universe together in the palm of His hands, the One who has promised to heal all our broken hearts – He is the one to raise you, to teach you and to show you all you need.
We’ll be with you before you know it, little buddy. In light of eternity, 60 or 70 years is nothing. Say hi to your great grandparents for us, and you should probably go spend some time with your Aunt Tricia – she can appreciate what you faced more than anybody else we know can.
We love you, little man. Keep the light on for us.
Daddy and Mommy