Sweet Baby Girl

Fingers sit still.  Mind whirling.  Heart breaking.  Body frozen.  Emotions paralyzed.  Eyes red.  Nose running.  Prayers spoken.  Prayers screamed.  Prayers pleading.  Prayers whispered.  Prayers uttered.  Prayers silent.  Prayers desperate for the Lord.  

 

Last Saturday I went to an engagement party for a long-time friend.  It was a family party, so we were all invited, but my brood could not come and I went alone.  Another sweet friend also came sans hubby because he was working, but she was with her two daughters, ages 3 and 1.  When she came in I put out my hands to the one year old so Mama could run back to the car for a few things.  Handing her over, she said, “She’ll probably cry, but will be fine when I’m out of sight.”  I smiled at this sweet girl in my arms and she didn’t utter a peep. She looked at me and we went to sit down and play.  She was enthralled with the other kids at the party and the teeny puppy that was also in attendance.  She sat with me for about 20 minutes, watching and smiling; soaking it all in.  Little did I know, this would be the last time this sweet face would smile at me.  Little did I know, this would be the last time that I would hold her.  Little did I know that the original heartache I felt at not having my own children with me was a blessing in that I was able to sit with this sweet one, stroking her hair, playing with the soft curls, playing with the puppy, laughing at what the other kids were doing because this would be the last time I would do those things with her.

Sweet little Hannah passed away on Wednesday morning.  Her Mama went into her room and found her unresponsive.  Her Daddy did CPR on her right away and they called 911, but it was too late.  She had had pneumonia a couple weeks ago, had been on the upswing, but then got sick again Tuesday night. She slipped from this world into Heaven peacefully in her sleep around midnight, the medical examiner said. 

I raced to the hospital to be with my friend and what I watched was one of the most difficult, heart wrenching things I’ve ever, ever seen.  In the ER, Hannah laid in her mama’s arms while the nurses & social workers painted and inked little Hannah’s hands for handprints.  Her Daddy sat next to them holding her Mama.  It was very quiet.  I watched my dear friend take a washcloth and wipe the paint from Hannah’s precious little hand. The sight of this was almost enough to completely break me.  This little hand that should be having the finger paints washed from it. This hand that should be having the sand from the beach washed from it.  This hand that should be having the play-doh washed from it.  This hand that should be having the brownies washed from it.  This hand that should be having the makeup that she was trying to put on her-big-girl-self washed from it.  Her mama kissed her hand and laid it down, having washed it for the last time.  Her mama whispered sweet words to her and they continued to love her.

 

These have been some of the most horrid and awful days that I can recount.  I can barely complete a thought in my head.  This hurts so deeply, down in the depths of my heart, that I find it almost impossible to breathe at times.  If my heart feels this way, I can’t even imagine what my dear friend’s feels like. 

 

No matter who we are, we find ourselves asking the question “Why?”  There is no good answer to the question “Why? Why God? Why?”  The only answer is, “I don’t know,” and that’s ok.  We want answers because we think it will make us feel better, but it really won’t.  There is no way we can ever feel better about the loss of a dear, sweet babe.  The only way that we will ever again see light, is through the light of Christ.  Our Heavenly Father is the source of comfort from pain.  The source of peace from calamity.  The source of knowledge during uncertainty.  The source of guidance in the dark.  The source of joy from the despair.  But right now pain, calamity, uncertainty, darkness and despair are what are present at the forefront of our sight.  Right now it’s almost impossible to see beyond those things.  And that’s ok.  It’s ok to live in that world right now. 

 

But here’s the thing.  It won’t be like this forever.  There is hope in Jesus Christ.  Jesus himself said, “I have told you these things, so that IN ME you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”  (John 16:33)  In Jesus we can find peace.  Without Him, the search for peace will be a losing battle.  My prayers for my friends, for our families, and for all of us is that we will seek the face of Jesus in this time.  As a parent, when something is going on and I want to get the attention of my child and when I need them to focus on me in a time of unsettledness I say to them, “Look at Mommy.  Look at my eyes.”  When they look at my eyes and keep focused on my eyes, they are able to listen in an attentive way so that what I’m saying will sink in.  When they keep their eyes on me, together we find calm amidst the chaos.  This is just as it is with sweet Jesus.  He says to us in this dark hour, “Look at me.  Look at my eyes.”  We need look nowhere else but the eyes of Christ.  And in the eyes of Christ, we will one day find true peace again.