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TRIBEWORK is about consuming the process of life, the journey, together.

Saturday, October 15, 2016

Waves of Light as Memories of Babies Lost

Nathanael’s Butterfly
“In denying my pain, I’d be denying my love.”
— Malory
For Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day
As I pondered thoughts of time two years ago, in going through Nathanael’s few possessions, including the cards of condolence we received at his funeral, the Lord indicated — this one. One particular card. Then, on opening it, out sprung some words from Psalm 31. Parts of the psalm speak of a time when God saw us in our pain, gave us room to breathe, and in our anguish, per the people’s prayers, He showered us with kindness. Oh the depths of pain that we’re called to endure — in cultivating healing, by tenuously avoiding denial and cynicism.
In surrender for healing is the experience of His Presence through the grace felt of kindness.
Grief is the child of love, and love, like any dutiful parent, bears what grief brings. It has no choice. Love can and would do nothing else. So love is torn. Love is costly. But, above all, love is strong for the task of faith, and faith gets love through grief.
Loss is what all parents must interminably prepare for, and I don’t simply mean parent by definition, but by function — anything we have custodianship for. Life is about loss. We don’t notice the good things we receive, but when they’re taken from us, then we’re cataclysmically forlorn.
Waves of light are what any bereaved parent can give in remembrance for the infant they lost.
Waves of light, as in a candle flickering in the waft, as it responds to the physicality of its environment; as visible now, but only as energy for the sustained moment, where fuel is available for combustion to keep that light bright.
The fragrance of bottlebrush is pungent in springtime right now. Today. They permeate our residence. They remind us that he is still here with us; alive in our memory and in our eternal hope.
If only as we embrace the aroma of flowers, we recognise the goodness in a memory.
Memories are the gift given to love to compensate for the grief of loss.
May God truly bless you by the unfathomable peace of His Presence in the experience of the reality of loss,
Steve Wickham.

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