Once, many many years ago, I held a small boy after he had died.
I was a pediatric nurse, a sacred job that night.
I washed his body, scarred and broken from his fight with disease.
His mom was driving to the hospital
when he died,
she tried to make it in time,
She was coming.
She didn't get to say goodbye, his death was unexpected.
She wasn't prepared.
I remember that I asked to stay with him until his mom came.
To sit beside his body, to keep vigil.
In the cold sterile hospital room.
I knew angels filled the room with a holy light I couldn't see.
A light reflecting of His glory.
I remember his mom, stumbling in the room,
Wrenching from her body
I remember a tight embrace,
Standing near him.
a distance close, but so far.
He had left, already.
But she had yet to bid him farewell.
She still had to say, until we meet again, my precious longed for son.
I turned away, to give her a moment alone,
her last with him.
I remember stumbling to the window, it was big.
And I remember a sense, a presence.
God was near, He was here.
Much more was happening than I could see.
A storm gathered outside,
the rain fell, clouds tossed in turmoil.
His heart broken.
His heart shattered over this small child, His child.
Weeping over a broken son's body.
Weeping over a mother, a father.
Weeping over a broken suffering world.
Peace falling like a blanket of snow over the heart wrenching cries,
the broken pieces of souls, hearts, life
covering the pain,
giving it space,
room to be expressed
carried by the one who bled.
Hope in Life Everlasting
in the midst of suffering and fear
in the midst of pain and turmoil
Rest and Refuge.
for Theo, a little boy who I never knew but who lost his battle with cancer today and who now knows the whole story, which we only see in part.