Eternal Siblings

For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. 

Romans 8:19

In the midst of our enduring questions and shredded hearts, He sends them. His beloved sons and daughters wearing cloaks of compassion and healing shawls. They've braced themselves to enter into our pain. We are humbled by their extravagant gift. We haven't been loved this way before. We find it hard to receive, yet we are desperate for it.

We slowly make a circle. Chairs creak. The coffee pot alarm sounds three times: beep, beep, beep. Even the appliances know we need not be interrupted. Someone clears their throat. Another silences their cell phone. One laces her fingers around the polka-dotted mug and takes a sip from the steaming coffee. The scent of friendship wafts gently through the air, stirred by the motion of the ceiling fan.

Then they turn to us and ask...“How you are you?”

We lay our frazzled hearts bare to these, our eternal siblings. We feel raw from the endless days of unknowns. We have no practice at living with this level of stress. They've seen us go from sorrow to sorrow, diagnosis to more catastrophic diagnosis. They've witnessed Oliver's seizures. Dreadful moments of his little body shaking, head dropping.  Like a hammer over and over, drool seeping out of his perfectly red lips, eyes blank. His toddler body exhausted from the electrical explosions in his brain.

We talk about our marriage. How we process this suffering in distinct ways, sometimes having no idea how to comfort the other. How we are angry at times, and have no one left to lash out on except each another. The burning intensity of each day pushes us to the brink as parents, friends and lovers.

There is no judgement in their eyes; just compassion and love. We've said enough (maybe too much) and then...

The room is still. Silent. We close our eyes and quiet our minds. Heads bow. Heads that have bowed thousands of times. We're going to be in the presence of our Father—all of us, together.

The prayer begins and we enter His presence; humbly, reverently but, not timidly,

for we are sons and daughters of the King.

We begin to weep swollen, pent-up tears. We are so very...weary.


Andrew and I raise our voices with them, we ask for miraculous healing. We cry out for beauty from these ashes. We ask that He will redeem this pain,
somehow,
somehow...
use it to bind up the brokenhearted. And, if it be His will,
that Oliver's life, our lives
will shine forth as a bright dawn
in a dark world.

I want a snapshot to tuck in my mind for safe-keeping. To call up when I feel alone. I open my tear washed eyes. I let them linger on every single soul. I hear Him whisper this is what it is like.

He is giving me a holy gift. A sliver of eternity. He hits the pause button and in the candlelight, tears all over our floors, I experience it---

souls in perfect unity.

The Bride of Christ.

Breath-takingly beautiful.

One breathing, living organism.

One body, holy and dearly loved.



August 6th

Would you join us in prayer for our church, Christ Community Church? They have been so good to us by giving us evenings of prayer, meals, cards, babysitting, financial gifts, the list goes on and on. Please pray they would be blessed for their self-less love towards our family.

August 7th

Please join us in lifting up those who are coming to be with us in Boston--another extension of this beautiful community we've been blessed with. The first week: Angela & Peggy (Stephanie's mom and grandmother). The second week: Jim & Anne (Andrew's dad and step-mom). The third week: Tim and Trista (friends from Christ Community Church). All three weeks: The Farrell Family (who we will be staying with on and off throughout our time in Boston).