beauty from ashes

that's how it goes, right?

Four days after arriving back from NZ

one phone-call

my great-niece, aged 5 years old, had passed away.

We were heartbroken.

I cried in disbelief. My heart just ached, physically ached, for her parents.

 Olivia cried for her cousin..... we cried together

not silent tears, but an outpouring of grief.... the magnitude of this for the family.... for her parents.

my last words to her were something-like:

bye Kezi, we'll see you in April. We can't wait to celebrate your 6th birthday.

to which her mother had said:

Yes. A prophetic statement.

and I said:

Yes.

Five years old.

These things happen to other people.

Not my family.

One week after her passing, a garden party, the one she was going to have for her sixth birthday, was held to say goodbye.

The distance from home was unbearable.

This was one time social media was NOT helpful, NOT able to close in the miles, NOT able to deliver what we needed to know..... at least not from those we so desperately wanted to hear from.

Family.

We wanted to be there. To stand and support.

To cry with her parents, their precious firstborn

To cry with my brother and his wife, his first grandchild....

To cry with my dad, his first great-grandchild....

I have struggled to see the beauty... the ashes linger and have been rained on and have plastered themselves to the ground.... they require scraping off.

She was two months older than my boy and their other cousin.

We laughed at how both Kezi and Theo had big blue eyes.... the blondest, almost white, bouncy ringlets as one year olds....

I look at him and shake my head in disbelief.

Five years old..... life just starting.

How, Lord, is it fair?

Theo has been very matter of fact about it. No tears. Sad, he says, but in his prayers he now says that he is

thankful that Kezi is in heaven with Jesus.

I have found myself filled with anger.

Reading and hearing simple, cliched comments about loving our kids more, holding them closer.....

I'm guilty of them too.....

is this what it takes to remind us that our children are gifted to us and that we have to cherish and love them with arms wide, without condition? 

Are we so caught up in doing 'life' that we need this type of reminder to stop and

treasure all the things our children do and give us just by 'being' ...... a reminder to be pondering on them constantly....

I have been angry with myself. Annoyed. Caught in worrying about life's nonsense.

We have skyped a couple of times with her parents since.

Cried with them.

Listened to them.

My words were empty and felt hopeless.

Their words were full, and hopeful. 

We talked about God's bigger purpose, His bigger plan..... how often we put up our hand and say

Here I am Lord, use me...

and then how quickly we condition it with

but not like this.

God is grieving with you.

He knows what this pain feels like.

I said.

So easy to say. I know it's truth. I just don't like that they have to feel that pain.

I don't like it.

We talked about the beauty....

She is pain-free now, released, not chained to sickness

Her story will continue, her light will shine.

They got an extra 12 months with her.... because of God, because of the hope, wisdom, strength and support that only He could offer them... when Doctors and science said no.

Others will hear.

Salvation is more important than health.

I was hard-hit by that last one.

Her father's words.

I am so in awe of how they have given it over to God.

They live with an eternal perspective.

This is what we have to hold onto.

 How easily we (Christians) forget that life is just the doorway to eternity.

You can read about Kezi's story here.

Please pray for them.